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'o 0' 



BOAT LIFE 



IN EGYPT AND NUBIA. 



BY .z^- 



..^ 



WILLIAM C. PRIME, 

ATTTHOB OF "TENT LIFE IN THE HOLY LAND," "THE OLD HOtTSE HT 
THE RIVEK," "later YRAIT8," ETC. 




NEW YORK: 
HARPER & BROTHERS, 

FRANKLIN SQUARE 

1857. 




Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857, by 

HARPEPw & BROTHERS, 

In the Clerk'8 Oflace of the District Court for the Southern District of 
New Yort:. 



®o tl)c itUtttorii of 

(!ll)arle0 (^bioarii Strmnbull, 

®ur Bdovch Bvot\)cx, 

on tte ebeninfl of tje scbentecntjD tiaj? of JWardi, 

in tfje 'Fenr cfflt)teen ijunTireti ano fiftri^siv, 

bjftfle toe laj sleepfnfl in t|)c Uallen on t|)i» silnr of 

tfte SorUan, passcti olicr tte 3tli\)cr into 

tje ®ftTj of our ©foti, 

1 JUebirate tljis bolume. 



^ i^ e f ^ c e . 



"Have you not a house, Braheem Efiendi?" said 
my friend Suleiman, on whose shop-front I was accus- 
tomed to sit in the bazaars of Cairo. Braheem was the 
nearest approach to the sound of my name, that an Arab 
could effect. 

'' Yea, verily, Suleiman." 

" Have you not a father and a mother ?'' 

" Thy lips drop fragrant truth, most magnificent of 
merchants." 

" Then why in the name of Allah came you here to 
Musr?" 

'' To see men and things. To gather knowledge by 
travel. To know the world." 

"Is it not written, ' Men are a hidden disease?' and 
elsewhere, ' Communion with men profiteth nothing, un- 
less for idle talk ?' Thou mightest better have remained 
at home, Braheem Efiendi ;" and the smoke from his 
chibouk curled in the still air up to the roof over the 
bazaar, and out into the sunlight, and vanished. 

I sometimes wonder whether, after all, the old man 
was not right. 



VI PREFACE. 

In the summer of 1855 I left America for Egypt. 
The immediate object which I had in view was the prose- 
cution of a favorite study. The kindness of my respected 
and distinguished friend^ Joseph Henry, LL.D., of the 
Smithsonian Institute, and other gentlemen occupying 
positions in the service of the Government at Washington, 
provided me with such introductions as enabled me to 
prosecute my explorations in Egypt with satisfactory 
success, while the accomplished scholarship of my com- 
panion, J. Hammond Trumbull, Esq., of Hartford, not 
only contributed to this success, but added more than I 
can tell to the pleasure of the voyage. 

The results of my studies are but hinted at in these 
pages, which are devoted almost exclusively to incidents 
of travel along the Nile. 

The dreams of childhood realized, the hopes of early 
manhood fully accomplished, I returned home with 
stories of travel for ears which, alas the day ! were closed 
to my voice by the solemn seal of death. 

Whether, that I have seen the sunrise flush the brow 
of Remeses at Abou Simbal, and touch with passionate, 
yet gentle and trembling caress — as a lover would touch 
the lips of his maiden love, dead in her glorious beauty — 
the cold lips of Memnon at old Thebes ; that I have wan- 
dered through the stately halls of Karnak, and looked 
up the stream of time from the summit of Cheops ; that 
I have knelt at the Sepulchre, and felt the night wind on 
my forehead in Gethsemane — whether all this is sufficient 



PREFACE. vii 

to repay me for the loss of the last gaze out of the eyes 
of a young, noble, and beloved brother, and, yet more, of 
the last words of lips whose utterances were the guide of 
my young years, whose teachings made me love the coun- 
tries of which old Homer sang, of which old historians 
wrote, old philosophers discoursed eloquently, whose 
morning and evening prayers had made dear to me every 
inch of land that was hallowed by the footprints of the 
Lord — judge ye, who have heard the blessing of a dying 
father, or ye who, like myself, have been far wanderers 
when the God of Peace entered the dear home circle ! 

to. or. |). 

New York, March 27, 1857. 



Contents. 



1. ^,xvi (SBiobmmx. 

Pag-e 
Arles — Malta — Cathedral of St. John, . , 15 



2. (Llje Classic ^m. 



The Nttbia — The Pentapolis — A Sun-worshiper — Sleep and DreamS'- 
Lauguter of the Waves — Cape Arabat — Alexandria, . . . .20 



3^. S^Ije Jmb 0f 3ilt:t'anbriiT. 



Donkeys — Pompet's Pillar — An Arab Girl — Bucksheesh — Custom-Hottse 
— A Firman — Needles of Cleopatra — Catacombs — Opening Tombs — 
Vases — A Painted Tomb — A Large Tomb, 32 



'L Ishaubcwgclj. 

Ehacotis — An Ancient Lamp — Saint or Martyr — Street Costumes — Fe- 
male Modesty — Mycerinus — Meshalks — Eailway — The Nile — Moslems 
Praying — Spectres and Angels, 50 

5. Cairo ihz Widomns, 

Dr. Abbott — Suleiman Effendi — Oriental Method of Eeasoning — 
Streets — Lattices — Dark Eyes — Mosk of Sultan Hassan — Citadel — 
Mosk of Mohammed Ali — Suleiman Aga and the Coffee — Family Tomb 
OP Mohammed Ali — Murad Bey — Bazaars of Cairo — Buying a Dress, . 60 

fi. ^Ije Jfflotprinfs of ilje ^atriarcbs. 

Hajji Ismael, a Dragoman — Founding of Cairo — Topography — Memphis 
— Heliopolis — Old Cairo — Ehoda — Matareeyeh — Fig-tree op Joseph 
and Mary — Heliopolis — Gateway of time of Moses — Obelisk — Agri- 
culture — Canals, and Methods of Irrigation — Shooting along the 
Desert — Tombs of the Memlook Sultans, 71 

1* 



X CONTENTS. 

7. '§.xnms Jtnir Cofftc. 

Page 
a debweesn and an argument — i convert uim — punch and judy — a 
Donkey Derweesh — Mosk of Amer — The Nilometer, and Island op 
Ehoda — Howling and Whirling Derweeshes — Description of tueib 
Services — The American Mission SO 



$. fa lllalj |l g^Ualj. 



Mosk of Tooloon— Shapes and Shadows — The Destiny of Mohammedan- 
ism — English Egypt — Mark the Prophecy, 90 



ff. ^htxh '§on$mm Iht-^igib'. 



An Arab Mare--The Old Sheik — Mohammed Abd-el-Atti— How Sheik 

HOUSSEIN CAME TO CaIRO — PRISONERS — ShEIK HoUSSEIN IS ARRESTED — I 
accompany him to THE TRANSIT OFFICE — SCENE THERE— A FuRIOUS 

Crowd — A Bail Bond — A Photograph of the Sheik, , . . ,9* 



U, labj m\s Sikrtm 



A Street Eow — Treaties with Turkey — Their Injustice — A Murderer — 
The Blood Eevenge — Procession of the Makhmil — The Bab Zouaileh 
AND the Kutb — Parting with Sheik Houssein — Hearing of him again, 109 



n. ^Ije Ipljantom, 



Buying Provisions and Furniture — Abd-el-Atti— Contract for the 
Nile Voyage-^The Phantom, my Boat — Description of tiie Boat-^ 
Servants — Ferrajj^t-Hassan — Hajji Mohammed, the Cook — Money- 
changer — The Depaeture-:-All Aboard — First Night on the Nile, J2D 

12. ^0ulljta-b f ! 

Sound op tub Muezzin Call — An Obliging Government — Nile Mud-t 
First Impressions of the Nile — Benisoef — Abd-el-Atti thrashes a Na- 
tive — Wild Pigs— Abou-Girg — Going for Milk — Moonlight Scene in a 
Mud Village.— Eemains of Ancient Habitations 130 

13?. Ikaljetm Mznii €1 fljabh 

Kalouseneh— A Coffee Shop— Boosa— Dancing-Girls— A Disgusting 
Dish— A Law Question — I turn Khadi and Decide it — A Costly Head- 
dress — Palm-trees and Moonlight — Mohammed Hassan — A Boy nearly 
Drowned, and a Eow — Convent of the Pulley — Swimming Monks — 
Medical Advice, 143 



CONTENTS. Xi 

Page 

Crocodiles — Beni Hassan — A New Passenger — Abou Meshalk — Reis 
IIassanein and his Wife— Manfaloot— Es Siout— Latif Pasiia— A Ee- 
ception — Bedouin Tiieoats — Tombs near Es Siout — A Visit to tiieiM, 156 

15r. S^Ijanhsgibhtg gag. 

Sugar-cane and Cotton — Products of the Nile Valley— Chibouks and 
Latakea — Americans — An American Baby — Brick-making — Ancient 
Bricks — A very interesting Picture in a Tomb— Latif Pasiia leaves 
Es Siout — Salutes — Thanksgiving Memories — A New Postal Ar- 
rangement — A Dromedary Express, IGT 

16. lift 3.1OU0 t^t giber. 

Baking Bread — Sheik IIerreddee — Pelicans — Crocodiles — Benefits of 
A Firman— Mensheeh — Pipes of Tobacco — IIajji-Mohammed — Hassa- 
bo's Fright — Fishing in the Nile — A Long Pull — A Devil, . . 178 



17. g.b^-H-JlHb£r ^tn. 

The Eeis Beats the Crew — Giieneh — Abd-el-Kader — His Reception 

room — The Sound of Church Bells, 190 

U. OTo f otrc a Ster. 

The Story of Sheik Houssein and the Christian Lady whom he Loved — 
A Dead Man — and Buried, 197 

10". Ut Citg of IX Sunbrtb §nk^, 

Thebes — Ruins — Theban Tombs — Turf on Graves- The Sulky Governor 
— The Great Temple at Luxor — Obelisks — Mustapha Aga the Ameri- 
can Agent — A Christian Chapel — Counterfeit Antiques — Sunrise on 
Memnon — Pilgrim Footprints — Excavations, 200 

20. ^Ije g^nticnt grair at ^sitc. 

Thebes to Esne — Temple at Esne — Mummies Lying in the Temple — I Ex- 
amine them — Priestess and Priest — Summary Justice on a Native — 
Medicine and Surgery— Donkey Trade, 220 



21. §«ging giutiqucs. 



Sunday on the Rivee — El Kab, the Ancient Eileithyas — Antiques, True 
or False— Cost of Antiques— Buying Them— An Arab Horse- Rain in 
Egypt — Ruins of Eileithyas — Lizards. 227 



Xil CONTENTS. 

22. €bfoiT. 

Page 
A Desert Make — Edfott — The Temple — Suleiman, tue Governoe — Fune- 
ral OF a Boy who Died of a Devil — Buying more Antiques — Another 
Governor — A Court of Justice — Government of Egypt — Eastern To- 
bacco — Latakea — A Strong Pull, thanks to Mohammed Roumali, 23G 

2v}. uTIje iTolrrcr of incite. 

A Row on Shore — IIagar Silsilis — Temple at Koum Ombos — Hassabo 
Arrives at Home — Arrival at Es Sou an — Elephantine — The Cemetery 
AT Es Souan — The American Agent — The Reises op the Cataract — 
The Contract for Going up — The Start, 247 

2-1. (lIjc Jfirst Ciitiiract. 

The Rapids — Ascent of the Cataract — Incidents op the Ascent — Bag 
BouG AND the Brandy — Phil.e — Moonlight on PnrL.E — The Pass of 
THE Cataract, 262 



25. Poonligbt. 

•Jackals and a "Wolf — Hassan Shellalee and his Mother — Old "Women 
IN Egypt— Moonlight on the Ruins —Nubia — Miserable Life — Nubian 
Villages — An Eventful History, . 273 

21 ^Ije litbimts. 

Medical Advice — A Horrible Case — A Devoted "Wife — Korusko — Deer 
— Abdul Rahman and his Physician — Hassan Kashebp and his Hun- 
dred "Wives — Fruit and "Wine — Chameleons — Abou Simbal — Tombs op 
the Sons of Israel — A Fight on Deck — The Second Cataract — Christ- 
mas Eve 2S3 

27. (Llje Recoil i) Cataract. 

Wady Halfeh — A Dromedary Ride across the Desert — Gazelles — A 
Chase— Alone on the DESEfltt— Abou Seir— The Second Cataract of the 
Nile — Names Cut in the Rock — Christmas Dinner — Preparations for 
TJiE Return Voyage, 295 

Rock Temple at Ferayg — I Fall into a Tomb— Abou Simbal— Illumina- 
tion of the Temple — Brilliant Effect — Nubian Fellaheen — The 
Colossi— The Temples of Abou Simbal 302 



CONTENTS. Xlll 

29". ^^ortljbarb in Mnhm, 

Page 
Dekr Again and Abdul Eahman — Temple at Derr — Ostriches, and a 
Monkey — Temple at Amada — Letters from Home! — I tell my Crew 
ABOUT Dr. Kane — Saboa — A Heavy Sea- — A Nubian Girl — Left Behind 
— Old People — Dakkeh, . . . 810 



^CT. |lorfbfoarb^ hx €ggpt 



Geef Hossayn — Turbulent Natives — Justice Administered — Kalabsiiee 
— New Year's Day at Puil^ — Descent of the Cataract — New Year's 
Calls at Es Souan — Travelers' Boats — Jessamine — Hagar Silsilis — 
Tjie Quarries and Grottoes, 318 



31. g^rralicc nnii '^\\ti^iu$. 



Edfou — The Temple and its Dark Chambers — An Arrakee Distillery — 
Wild Fowl — Koman Euins at Eileithyas — Ancient Homes — Tombs at 
El Kab — Four American Boats — Tobacco, 326 



S2. gicljmct tlje ^csttrraiiomsi 



Esne — The Mummies Again — Strolls Along Shore — A Dumb Beauty 
— Luxor by Night — A Light Among the Tombs — An Ancient Prince — 
A Theban History, 387 



t}3^. OTjjcks Ibc ^[ngitlficcnt. 



The Tent on Shore — Medeenet Habou — Evening in the Tent — Tombs 
OP tub Assaseef — The Remeseion — Theban Tombs — Achmet Again — 
Mummies — Private Tombs — Number 35, 346 



U, m^z IdHccs of iljc §mk 



An Unexpected Meeting — Mr. Eighter — An Antique Shop — Discovery 
OP Mummy Shawls — Mummies in Wrong Boxes — Tombs of the Kings — 
Belzoni's Tomb — Bruce's Tomb — My Friend Wiutely, .... 362 



55r. fg mn^B mdl 



Cabin of the Phantom — Mustapha Aga's House — A Dying Artist — 
Karnak — Digging a Grave — The Last Look — The Funeral and 
Burial, 372 



SI Uz 6Iorg of JXmmk 



Extent of Karnak — Egyptian Ideas of Immortality — Approach to 
Karnak, Shisiiak and Eehoboam — Champollion and his Discoveries — 
Melek Aiudah — Moonlight on Karnak — That Lonely Grave, . 886 



XIV CONTENTS. 

Pag3 
A Jereed Performance — Ghawazee Girls — Finding a Ladder — Memnon 
— Climbing into his Lap— Houssein Kasiieep tue Governor — Old and 
Lonely — The Last Evening at .Lttxor — The Surly Nazir — Leaving 
Thebes — Taking a Mummy on Board, 89" 



55. §. QTitiiuslj ll^oblemaiT. 



GiiENEH — Abd-el-Kader BEYr— Ducks and Foxes — Houssein Kasheef 
made Happy — Dendera — A Present from Abd-el-Kadek, . . . 41 1 



SI ilje Cr0tobiU |lils. 



Maabdeh — A Party fob the Crocodile Pits — Mr. Legii's Account — 
EoAD to the Pits — Entrance — First Chamber— Perilous Advance — 
Narrow Place — The Crocodile Mummies — Coming Out — Attack from 
the Natives — Manfaloot — The Governor's Administration of Justice 
— The Coptic Bishop, 417 



40. ^zBohk IplHtcs. 



Beni Hassan — Tomb of Joseph — Latip Pasha at Minieh — Sakkara — A 
Kow on Shore — Memphis — Sesostris Fallen — Tomb of Apis — A Brief 
Battle — Seizing Soldiers — The Pyramids of Ghizeh — We Leave the 
Phantom, 439 



'IL Wxmn Hiib Realities. 



Bucksheesh — Tobacco and Kief — Suleiman Effendi's Shop — Story op 
Selim Pasha's Love — A Rich Soil — The Dust of Benjamin and Judah 
— The Wife of Manasseh — Joseph and Benjamin — The Departure for 
Holy Land, . . . , 444 



gippcnbu', 



A. — Sketch of the History, Religion, and Written Language op An- 
cient Egypt, 471 

B. — Advice to Travelers Yisiting Egypt, 493 




(. 



fi*^ Si obqo^i. 

Fra Giovanni was a Franciscan, His face was one 
that you loved to look at. A calm and beautiful face. 
Sometimes, when the long black lashes fell over his cheek 
and his mind went wandering over the hills about San 
Germano in the fair land of Italy, I used to think I 
was looking at the face 'of him of Patmos, the beloved 
disciple, who, much as he loved the ascended Christ, yet 
remained longest of all the twelve away from him ; and 
when my friend prayed, as I have seen him pray, with 
tears, and yet very bright hope, in his eyes, I used to re- 
member the same John, and think I could see his eyes, 
when he uttered the last fervent prayer that his Lord 
would corne quickly, from whom he had been so long 
separated. 

We met in the theatre at Aries, that old town of the 
south of France which boasts a rival to the Roman Coli- 
seum, I was sitting in the twilight, with no one but 



10 AN OLD THEATRE. 

Miriam and the guardian near me, and I Avas dreaming, 
as I suppose any enthusiastic American may be permitted 
to dream the first time he finds his feet on the boards — on 
the rocks, I should say — of an ancient theatre. The fading 
light was not unfavorable to such an occupation. Ghosts 
came at my call and filled the otherwise vacant seats. 

I saw fair women, brave men, magistrates, soldiers, sen- 
ators, and an emperor, yea verily, an emperor, in the seat 
between the marble columns. There were wrestlers, just 
come from the games near by in the amphitheatre, stand- 
ing by the stage, and dancers, and jesters, and masked 
figures flitting to and fro. All was silent. But the 
silence grew intolerable, and at length I interrupted it 
myself. 

You need not laugh at me for talking Greek. Those 
Roman ghosts could understand Greek as well as English, 
or, for that matter, as well as Latin, and if they knew any 
thing they should have known iEschylus. So I acted 
prompter and gave them 

" Xdovog fi£v elg T7]?^ovpdv yKOfj.ev nedov 
HKvdrjv £f olfiov d(3poTov elg kpT^fitav,^^ 

whereupon the ghosts vanished. In a flash, in the twink- 
ling of a star, the scene was one of cold bare rocks in the 
gray twilight, a ruined hall, fallen columns over which 
countless snails were crawling, and Kaiser and actor were 
dust of a verity under my feet. 

But a voice answered my voice. For in a nook among 
the confused stones near the stage had been sitting, all 
this time, a person that I had not seen, whose clear soft 
voice came pleasantly to me as he hailed congenial com- 
pany in this place of ruins. 

"Who is there, that would renew old and familiar 
echoes in these walls ?" 

" Why ? Do you think they ever heard that before ?'? 



ST. JOHNSATMALTA. ]7 

" The Prometheus ? Yes — why not ? There were 
scholarly days when the fashionable Romans delighted in 
Greek plays." 

We walked out, all together, and down to the miserable 
forum and the hotel, where, in the evening, over a bottle 
of St. Peray that I had brought from Valence with my 
own baggage, we talked down the hours. Thus I became 
acquainted with Fra Giovanni — and our acquaintance fast 
ripened. He was an Italian, young, wealthy, of good fam- 
ily, and a priest. He had not been long an ecclesiastic. 
There were moments when the former life flashed out 
through the fine eyes under his cowl. The memory of 
other times alternately lit and darkened his face. There 
was some deep grief there of which he never told me, and 
which I never sought to know. He was a good, gentle, 
faithful friend. That was enough. 

Some time after that, we were standing in the crypt of 
the cathedral of St John's at Malta. That day we were 
to separate. I to go eastward, and he to travel he scarce- 
ly knew whither, on the work of his sacred calling. Be- 
fore us, in marble silence, lay the stout Villiers de I'Isle 
Adam, and a little way off the brave Valetta, sleeping 
after his last great battle with the Turks, who surrounded 
this, his rocky fortress. 

He who goes to the East should always go by way of 
Malta. It is a proper stepping-stone between Europe and 
the Orient, where the last wave of the crusades rolled 
back from the walls of Jerusalem, and sank in foam. 

"You will find yourself always looking back to this 
little crypt in the middle of the sea, wherever your foot- 
steps turn," said Fra Giovanni. " No place in the 
Mediterranean is so intimately connected with the his- 
tory of the East as this island of Malta, and there is 
scarcely any part of the Orient in which you will not be 
reminded of it. This fact alone, that it is the place of 



18 CARAVAGGIO. 

the death and burial of that mighty order who for so 
great a period swayed the sceptre of power in Europe, is 
enough to connect it wdtli Egypt and Holy Land, indeed 
with all the possessions of the Turks. Here, when Ya- 
letta was Grand Master, the arras of the Moslem had 
their first great check, and the followers of the false 
prophet learned that their boasted invincibility was a 
fable. Here, too, but yesterday, when the great leader 
of the French had garrisoned the island, your stout cous- 
ins of England, who followed his swift feet as the hounds 
follow after the deer, drove out his soldiery. You will 
think of that when you see the boastful inscription of 
Desaix at the cataract of the Kile. There have been 
valiant deeds done on this rock. If the sea could have 
a voice, it would tell of men of might, and deeds of might 
done here, that are themes for bards who love to cele- 
brate the great acts of men. But the sea is the only 
living thing that knows them. For there are no trees, 
nor ancient vines, nor any thing here but the great rock, 
and the living, moving, throbbing sea around it." 

I don't know but my friend would have talked on all 
day, had not a gun from the harbor announced that the 
steamer was heaving up her anchor. 

We left the crypt and walked over the splendid floor 
of the cathedral, which is inlaid with a thousand tomb- 
stones of knights of the Cross. I glanced once more at 
the picture of the Beheading of John, which Garavaggio 
painted that he might be admitted to the order, and 
painted in fading colors (water some say) that the evi- 
dence of his debasement of the art, and their debasement 
of the order, might disappear ; and then, rushing out into 
the Strada Reale^ and plunging down the steep narrow 
streets to the landing-place, overturning a half-dozen com- 
missionaires, each of whom swore he was the man that 
said good-morning the day previous, and became thereby 



THE SIGN OF THE CROSS. 19 

entitled to his five francs (for no one need imagine that 
he will land at Malta without paying, at least, three com- 
missionaires and five porters, if he carry no baggage on 
shore, or twice as many, if he have one portmanteau), 
I parted from Fra Giovanni, with a warm pressure of the 
hand, a low " God bless you," and a long, earnest look 
out of those eyes of John the Saint. 

When the Nubia swung up on the port-chain, with her 
head to the opening of the harbor, and ran out to sea, 
she passed close under the Lower Barracka, so close that 
I could recognize faces on it. In the corner, by the mon- 
ument of Sir Alexander Ball, I saw my friend. As ho 
recognized me, he waved his hand toward me, and even 
in that motion I caught his intent ; for he, good Catholic 
that he was, could not let me, his heretic friend, go to 
sea, and especially to the East, without that last sign of 
the redemption by way of benediction. I thanked him 
for it, for he meant it lovingly, and so I was away for 
the Orient. We met again at the Holy Sepulchre. 

Such was my step from the modern world to the an- 
cient. From good old Presbyterian habits and friends to 
the companionship and aifection of a Franciscan brother 
among the relics of the mediaeval world, and then to the 
heart of Orient, Cairo the Magnificent, el Kahira the Vic- 
torious. 



There is a comfort, when traveling eastward, in meet- 
ing Englishmen. You are very certain, in coming in 
contact with the English pleasure-traveler, to meet a gen- 
tleman. Exceptions are very rare. It is also worthy of 
remark, that the English gentleman, so soon as he learns 
that you are American, regards you as a fit companion, 
which is a degree of confidence that he is very far from 
reposing in one of his own nationality. Englishmen meet- 
ing Englishmen, look on one another as so many pick- 
pockets might, each of whom was certain that each of his 
neighbors meant to rob him on the first available oppor- 
tunity. 

This perhaps arises from the danger that foreign ac- 
quaintances may entail unj)leasant and impracticable rec- 
ognitions at home. There is no apprehension of this in 
meeting Americans, and this may serve to explain a will- 
ingness to find society for the time which will not prove 
troublesome in the future. 

But I am disposed to give our cousins over the water 
more credit for kindred affection. I have always found 
them cordial, warm-hearted, frank and hearty companions 
and friends. I was, perhaps, fortunate in those whom I 
met, but they were many, lords, spiritual and temporal, 
soldiers, sailors, and shop-keepers ; and T found the name 



A l( O L (J It S K A . 2 I 

of American a pass to their hearts. Some had friends in 
our new country, and perhaps I had seen and known 
them — and once or twice I had — all had an idea that we 
were a race of brave and active men, given to boasting, 
but good-natured at that, nearly related to them in blood, 
and allies of England as champions of freedom against the 
desj^otisms of the world. 

This last idea was one of new and startling force to me, 
as I looked back from Europe and the East to England 
and America. The line between freedom and tyranny 
runs up the British Channel. It is not the broad At- 
lantic. Our Constitution is of English origin, based on 
English law, and the boast which we inherit from our 
revolutionary patriots was, that Britons would never be 
slaves. 

The sea was still. From Marseilles to Malta, in the 
little mail steamer Valetta^ we had experienced a constant 
gale, sailing almost all the way under water. Ladies had 
nearly died from the exhaustion of sea-sickness. The day 
that we passed the straits of Bonifacio was the worst in 
my memory of bad days at sea. All day long the sea 
went over us, fore and aft. To live below deck was im- 
possible, the foul air of the little steamer close shut and 
battened down being poisonous. The ladies who were 
sea-sick were brought on deck and laid on island cushions 
around which the water washed back and forth. Here day 
and night for seventy hours they moaned and shrieked. One 
of them we thought hourly would die. Miriam and Amy, 
our American ladies, were brave and good sailors, but the 
scene was almost too much for them. The gale saw us 
into the port of Malta, and then flattened down to a calm, 
and never was there such a beautiful sea as we sailed over 
to Alexandria. No wind disturbed the profound beauty 
of that water whose azure I had never before dreamed of. 
It was a never-ending source of pleasure to lean over the 



22 D A Y - D A W N A T S E A . 

side and gaze into the deep blue, that surpassed the sky 
in richness, on which the bubbles from the swift prow 
went dancing gayly before us, white flashing and vanish- 
ing, to be followed by others and others, all day and all 
night long. 

The poop cabin had been by some odd chance left va- 
cant, and I had secured it for Miriam and Amy. In a 
season when the through India jmssengers crowded the 
line of the Peninsular and Oriental Company, this was a 
most fortunate and unexpected occurrence. The cabin 
was much the pleasant est on shipboard, and they slept in 
it enough to make up their losses on the Yaletta. 

I passed the night on deck, and could wake at any hour 
and recognize the stars over me, that had so often seen 
me sleeping in western wanderings. The old Englishman 
who had the wheel on the starboard watch on the first 
night out from Malta, when he saw me rolling a blanket 
around me and lying down on a bench, gi-unted a disap- 
proval of it to himself, and even ventured to his mate at 
the wheel a remark to the detriment of my eyes, exjiress- 
ing also his beUef that I would go below before morning. 
How he came to be on the watch in the morning I don't 
know, but he expressed unmitigated delight at my visual 
organs being unaffected by his remarks, when he saw me 
start up before the break of dawn in the east, and throw 
off my blanket and sleep together, while I walked over 
to the rail and watched to see the coming day. 

Let him who would see the magnificence of dawn be- 
hold it in the Levant, off" the coast of the Pentapolis. It 
is no matter for wonder that the ancients had such glori- 
ous ideas of Aurora and her train. The first rays over the 
blue horizon were splendid. I gazed to see if Jerusalem 
itself were not the visible origin of that splendor. Then 
swift in the track of his rays, came the gorgeous sun, 
springing out of the ^sea like a god of triumph, and he 



'1' n K PASSENGERS. 2.5 

went up into the heavens with a majestic pomp that the 
Bun has nowhere but just here. There was on board the 
sh\]) a Pharsee, with his servants. I did not wonder at 
that longing gaze with which I saw him looking at his 
rising god. I, too, had I been taught as he, would die a 
worshiper of that god of hght. 

The second-class passengers were a motley crowd. 
Italian, Maltese, French, Greek, Arab, and Lascar, they 
lay in heaps along the deck until the pumps sent the water 
flooding over them when the decks were washed, and 
then climbed into the rigging and sunned themselves dry. 
I held a general levee arnoHg them every forenoon, ex- 
amining their various developments, and ended it with a 
handful of cigars on deck, which transformed the crowd 
into a mass of legs and arms, their heads being absolutely 
invisible in the melee. The first day there grew four sep- 
arate fights out of this generosity of mine, and the sec- 
ond day three. I omitted it the third, but there were six 
combats on that morning, and I would have resumed the 
practice on the fourth morning but that we were in the 
harbor of Alexandria. 

Among the passengers were two major-generals in the 
East India Company's service, one of whom was capital 
company. I usually had possession of the port side of 
the after skylight deck, which being lifted up at each end 
to allow air in the cabin below, made a very comfortable 
lounge. As it was close to the poop cabin, I furnished it 
easily with cushions and pillows, and we were accustomed 
to make this our reception-room of an afternoon. The 
general enjoyed a talk about America, by way of intro- 
duction to a story, and stories, by himself about India and 
the Indians, which he much delighted to relate, and to 
which, I confess, I was not unwilling to listen. 

The scene on the deck of the steamer at such times 
was the gayest imaginable ; unlike any other great line 



2-4 ^ t* L' N W () I! S JI 1 r K R . 

of travel, either by sea or land, in that the ladies on board 
seemed to vie with each other in the elegance of their 
afternoon dresses. Here lay on a jDile of cushions a lady 
of rare and delicate beauty, dressed in white from head 
to foot, her dress the finest lawns and laces of exquisite 
texture ; while, by way of contrast or foil to her beauty, 
an Indian servant, black as an African, and dressed in 
crimson, with a long piece of yellow cloth wound around 
his head and shoulders, stood fanning his mistress. There 
stood a group of young ladies, all in black, but all richly 
dressed and every neck gleaming with jewels; while a 
half-dozen young men, officers and civilians intermingled, 
were making the neighborhood intolerable by their inces- 
sant flow of nonsense. Two English generals, with their 
families, were on deck, and a Portuguese governor-gen- 
eral, with his suite, outward-bound to the possessions of 
Portugal in the Indies. Children were playing every- 
where, and officers hastening hither or thither found 
themselves constantly entangled in the games of the young 
ones, or lost in circles of laughing girls, or actually made 
fast by the endless questions of some elderly mother of a 
family. 

And when the sun went down in the sea, our fellow- 
passenger, the Pharsee, might be seen on the distant fore- 
castle, standing calmly with folded arms and steadfast 
eyes fixed on his descending god, and following his course 
with fixed countenance long after he had disappeared, as 
if he could penetrate the very earth itself with that ador- 
ing gaze. And it did not seem strange here that he 
should worship that orb. I, too, began to feel that there 
was something grand, majestic — -almost like a god — in the 
everlasting circuit of the sun above these seas. Day by 
day — day by day — for thousands of years, the eye of his 
glory had seen the waves of the Great Sea. The Phce- 
itician sailors, Cadmus, Jason — all the? bold navigators 



SLEEP AND DREAMS. 25 

that are known in song and story — he had watched and 
guided to port or destruction. 

Is it the same great sun that looks down on American 
forests ? Is it the same sun that has shone on me when 
I slept at noonday on the rocky shores of the Delaware, 
or whose red departure I have watched from the hills 
of Minnesota ? The same sun that beheld the glory of 
Nineveh, the fall of Persepolis, the crumbling ruins of the 
Acropolis? In such lands, on such seas as this, he is a 
poor man, poor in imagination and the power of enjoy- 
ment, who does not have new ideas of the grandeur of 
the sun that has shone on the birth, magnificence, burial, 
and forgotten graves of so many nations. Well as men 
have marked them, tall as they have builded their monu- 
ments, broad and deep as they have laid their founda- 
tions, none know them now save the sun and stars, that 
have marked them day by day with unforgetful visita- 
tion. And when the day was gone, and the night, with 
its deep blue filled with ten thousand more stars than I 
had ever seen before, was above us, I wrapped my 
plaid around me, and disdaining any other cover than 
that glorious canopy, I slept on deck and dreamed of 
home. 

I say I slept and dreamed. It was pleasant though 
fitful sleep, and I woke at dawn. It could not be other- 
wise. From my childhood, the one longing desire to 
visit Egypt and the Holy Land grew on me with my 
growth. It entered into all my plans of life — all my 
prospects for the future. I talked of it often, thought 
of it oftener, dreamed of it nightly for years. One and 
another obstacle was removed, and I began to see before 
me the immediate realization of my hopes. It would be 
idle to say my heart did not beat somewhat faster when 
I saw the blue line of the American horizon go down be- 
hind the sea. It would still be more idle to say, that I 

2 



26 THE LAUGHTER OF THE WAVES. 

did not weep sometimes — tears that were not childish — 
when I remembered the silent parting from those dear 
lips that had tanght me for thirty years to love the land 
that God's footsteps had hallowed, and whose eyes looked 
so longingly after me as I hastened away. (God granted 
me never again those dear embraces.) It would be idle 
to deny that in my restless sleep on the Atlantic in the 
narrow cabin, my gentle Miriam, who slept less heavily, 
heard me sometimes speak strange words that might 
have puzzled others, but which she, as the companion of 
my studies, recognized as the familiar names of holy 
places. 

But notwithstanding all this, I did not, in my calm, 
w^aking hours, feel that I was approaching eastern climes 
and classic or sacred soil until I had left Malta, and felt 
the soft north wind coming down from Greece. That 
first night on the Nuhia was full of it. I could not sleep 
more than half an hour at a time, and then I would start 
up wide awake, with the idea that some one had spoken 
to me ; and once, I could not doubt it, I heard as plainly 
as if it were real, my father's voice — as I have heard it 
often and often — reading from the old prince and father 
of song. 

Just before daybreak I crossed the deck and bared my 
forehead to a soft, faint breeze that stole over the sea. 
The moon lay in the west. The night was clear, and I 
could read as if it were day. I leaned on the rail, and 
looked up to windward, where, here and there, I could 
see the white caps of the thousand waves, silvered hi the 
light of the purest moon I ever saw, and thinking of my 
friend, Fra Giovanni, and of my first meeting with him, 
and yielding to the temptation of a quotation, where no 
one was near to hear me and to call it pedantic, I began 
to recite that other splendid passage from the Prometheus, 



THEPENTAPOLIS. 27 

which was born in the poet's brain on this identical water 
which now rolled around me : 

^12 6lo^ aWyp Kol raxv^^TepoL t^voloL 
HorauQv re 'KTjyal, ttovtIcov re KVfiuTov 
^Avrjpidjiov yeXaajua, Tra/j./xi/Top re y/j 

Kal TUV TZaVOTTTIJV KVK?MV ?J?iLOV, Ka7i.C). 

" And what's the use of calling on them ?" said a clear, 
pleasant voice behind me, as I started around to recog- 
nize one of the English generals Avhom I have mentioned 
as with us on the ship. 

" I say, what's the use of calling on them when they 
W'on't come? Times are changed. There are no gods 
in Greece now, and, by Jupiter, no men either, and the 
river nymphs are all gone ; and the smiles of the weaves, 
look at them — they come when they wdll, and go where 
they will ; but the good old days of poetry are gone, 
gone, gone ! Even as the glory of yonder cities is 
gone !" And he pointed to the southern horizon, where 
I now saw the low line of the coast of Africa for the first 
time. We were just seventeen hours from Malta when 
we came up with it. It was Cape Arabat, and here Avere 
the cities of the Pentapolis. Here w^as Berenice the 
beautiful ; Ptolemais was here and Cyrene. That long 
line of sand, deserted and desolate, was all that I was to 
see of their grandeur ; but I w^as not sorry that my first 
view of Africa should be connected with such associations. 

In the forenoon we lost sight of land again, and were 
then left to our own resources in the ship. The sea was 
in a generous humor. From the hour we left Malta there 
was almost a flat calm. We did not suifer a moment's 
discomfort, and I tliink there was not a case of sea-sick- 
ness on board. 

Around our cabin doors, on the after deck, we assem- 
bled a gay group daily. The ship's band made pleasant 
music for us in the afternoons and evenings, once delight- 



i 



28 PHAROS OF ALEXANDRIA. 

ing US with "Hail Columbia" and "Yankee Doodle," 
which sounded the more home-like for the unexpected- 
ness of those famihar sounds on an English shij^ along 
the coast of Africa. 

Night after night came over us with never-diminishing 
wealth of beauty, and each successive dawn and sunrise 
woke me from deep slumber on the deck of the vessel. 
Thursday evening came. At midnight the deck was de- 
serted, and I was alone. In that soft air and exquisite 
climate I preferred the deck to my cabin, and had made 
my bed every night on the planks under the sky. This 
night I could not sleep. The restlessness of which I have 
spoken had increased as we approached the shore of 
Egypt, and I walked the deck steadily for an hour, and 
then threw myself into one of the dozen large chairs 
which, in the day-time, were the private property of as 
many English ladies. At one o'clock I heard the officer 
of the deck discussing the power of his eyesight, and 
springing to the rail, I saw clearly, on the starboard bow, 
the light of the Pharos at Alexandria. 

You may be curious to know what were my emotions 
at the visible presence of Egypt before my eyes, and the 
evidence that I should tread its soil to-morrow. I did 
not pause to think of the magnificence of the old Pharos 
which this one replaces, or of the grandeur that made it 
one of the seven wonders of the world. The great mir- 
ror that exhibited vessels a hundred miles at sea; the 
lofty tower that shone in the nights of those old centu- 
ries, almost on the rocky shores of Crete ; the palaces that 
lined the shore and stretched far out into the blue Medi- 
terranean ; none of these were in my mind. 

Enough to say that, before I thought of this as the 
burial-place of the mighty son of Philip ; before I thought 
of it as the residence of the most beautiful of queens ; the 
abode of luxury and magnificence surpassing all that the 



J OHN, SURNAME D M ARK. 29 

world had seen or will see ; before the remembrance of 
the fabled Proteus, or even the great Julius came to my 
mind, I was seated in my chair, my head bowed down on 
my breast, and before my vision swept a train of old men 
of lordly mien, each man kingly in his presence and bear- 
ing, yet each man in his life poor, lowly, if not despised. 
I saw the old Academician, his white locks flowino- on 
the Avind, and the Stagyrite, the mighty man of all old or 
modern philosophy, and a host of the great men of learn- 
ing, whose names are lost now. And last in that vision- 
ary procession — calmer, more stately than the rest, with 
clear bright eye fixed on the heaven where last of all he 
saw the flashing footsteps of the angels that bore away 
his Lord, Avith that bright light around his white fore- 
head that crowned him a prince and king on earth and in 
heaven — I saw Marh^ the Apostle of Him whom Plato 
longed to see and Aristotle died ignorant of. 

With daybreak came the outlines of the shore and the 
modei-n city of IsJcandereyeh^ conspicuous above all being 
the Pillar of Diocletian, known to modern fame as Pom- 
pey's Pillar. We lay outside all night waiting for a pilot. 
The only benefit to be derived from the modern light- 
house at Alexandria is its warning not to approach the 
harbor, which is entered by a winding channel among in- 
numerable reefs and rocks. We threw rockets, burned 
blue-lights, and fired cannon ; but an Egyptian pilot is 
not to be aroused before sunrise, and it was, therefore, 
two hours after daylight before he came ofl'to ns, and we 
entered the port on the west side of the city. 

The instant that the anchor was dropped, a swarm, like 
the locusts of Egypt, of all manner of specimens of the 
human animal, poured np the sides of the ship and cov- 
ered the deck from stem to stern. It Avould be vain to 
attempt to describe them. Moors, Egyptians, Bedouins, 
Turks, Nubians, Maltese, nondescripts — white, black, yel- 



30 DRAGOMANS. 

low, copper-colored, and colorless — to the number of two 
or three hundred, dressed in as many costumes, con- 
vinced us that we were in a new country for us. There 
were many who wore elegant and costly dresses, but the 
large majority were of the poorest sort, and poverty here 
seems to make what we call poverty at home positive 
wealth. 

Of a hundred or more of this crowd, the dress of each 
man consisted of one solitary article of clothing — a shirt of 
coarse cotton cloth, reaching not quite to the knees, and 
this so thin as to reveal the entire outline of the body, 
while it was usually so ragged as to leave nothing to be 
complained of in the way of extra clothing. They went 
to work like horses, and I never saw men exhibit such 
feats of strength. The cargo of the ship was to be got 
out as rapidly as possible. Five dollars a day is ample 
pay for a hundred of these men. A piastre and a half 
(about eight cents) is the highest rate of wages in Egypt. 

With the crowd who came on board were the usual 
number of anxious and officious dragomans. 

The Avord dragoman, derived from turgoraan, and 
meaning simply an interpreter, has gotten to signify a 
sort of courier, valet, servant, adviser, and traveling com- 
panion, all combined, on whom the Oriental traveler must 
expect to be dependent for his very subsistence from day 
to day, from and after the moment he becomes attached 
to him. 

A friend of mine, speaking of the servants, was accus- 
tomed to call them " the young ladies who boarded with 
his mother." The dragoman may be defined as the gen- 
tleman who travels with you. He becomes a part of 
yourself, goes where you go, sleeps where you sleep, you 
talk through him, buy through him (and pay him and 
through him at the same time), and, in point of fact, you 
become his servant. All this, if you choose. But, if you 



A LEARNED LINGUIST. 31 

choose otherwise, you may make him what he should be, 
a very good servant, and nothmg more. He who can 
not manage his own servants should stay at home and 
not travel. The man whose servant can cheat him, 
should not keep servants, or should submit to his own 
stupidity. 

I may as well pause here, to advise the Egyptian trav- 
eler under no circumstances to take a dragoman until he 
reaches Cairo. He will find English, French, and Italian, 
spoken everywhere in Alexandria, and on the railway to 
Cairo, so that he Avill need no assistance until he begins 
to make his arrangements to go up the Nile ; which he 
should not make in Alexandria. 

One of the importunate, who came on board the Nubia, 
may serve as an example of the rest. 

He was a Nubian, black and shining ; dressed in the 
Nizam costume, embroidered jacket, silk vest, and flow- 
ing trowsers, all of dark green. He ofiJered a handful of 
testimonials, but I rejected these, and asked him a ques- 
tion for the sake of getting rid of him. 

" What languages do you speak ?" 

" All de kinds. I had school went to — sixty, seventy 
year. I ought know." 

•" Perhaps you ought, but you won't do for me." 

I had observed a respectable-looking Maltese, who was 
the commissionaire for Cesar Tortilla's Hotel d' Europe. 
Placing the baggage in his charge, we made our way 
down into a boat, and a tall, half-naked Arab, standing up 
to his oars, pulled us slowly in to the crowded landing- 
place at the custom-house of Alexandria. 

Here I entered Egypt ; and, at this same spot, on a 
moony midnight five months later, I departed for the 
Holy Land. 



3. 

Jl]e Se^S of S!ex^i]^h^. 

Alexandria is a strange medley. The West and the 
East have met and intermarried in her streets. The great 
square presents the most singular spectacle that can be 
imagined in any city of Orient or sunset, from the strange 
commingling of races, nations, costumes, and animals. 
The great modern institution of Egypt is the donkey, es- 
pecially to American eyes. 

The Egyptian donkey is the smallest imaginable animal 
of the species. The average height is from three feet and 
a half to four feet, though large numbers of them are 
under three feet. These little fellows carry incredible 
loads, and apparently with ease. In the square were 
scores of them. Here an old Turk, fat and shaky, his feet 
reaching to within six inches of the ground, went trotting 
across the square ; there a dozen half naked boys, each 
perched between two goat-skins of water. Four or five 
English sailors, full of wonderment at the novel mode of 
travel, w^ere plunging along at a fast gallop, and got foul 
of the old Turk. The boys, one of whom always follows 
his donkey, however swift the pace, belaboring him with 
a stick, and ingeniously poking him in the ribs or under 
the saddle-strap, commenced beating each other. Two 
ladies and two gentlemen, India passengers, taking their 
first donkey ride, became entangled in the group. Twenty 



pompey's pillar. S3 

long-legged, smglc-shivted fellahee7i rushed up, some with 
donkeys and some with long rods. A row of camels 
stalked slowly by, and looked with quiet eyes at the in- 
creasing din ; and when the confusion seemed to be inex- 
tricable, a splendid carriage dashed up the square, and 
iifty yards in advance of it ran, at all the speed of a swift 
horse, an elegantly-dressed runner, waving his silver rod, 
and shouting to make way for the high and mighty 
Somebody ; and forthwith, in a twinkling, the mass scat- 
tered in every direction, and the square was free again. 
The old Turk ambled along his way, and the sailors sur- 
rounded one of their number who had managed to lose his 
seat in the hubbub, and whose curses were decidedly 
home-like. 

No one could be contented in Alexandria more than 
fifteen minutes without going to Pompey's Pillar, as fame 
Jias it, or the Pillar of Diocletian, as it is now more fre- 
quently and properly called. 

Leaving the ladies to their baths and a late breakfast, 
we mounted donkeys at the door, and being joined by a 
lialf dozen English officers bound to India, who were de- 
tained in Alexandria for the train until evening, we dashed 
off up the square at a furious gallop ; furious in appear- 
ance, but the rate of progress was about equal to a slow 
trot on horseback. Nevertheless, a donkey carrying a 
lieavy American on his back has some momentum when 
he gallops, as the guaid in the gateway found to his cost; 
for he was dozing, after the prescribed manner of an 
Egyptian noon-day doze, and he dreamed that he heard 
the Frenchmen coming again, as they came once in his 
time ; and before he had time to pick up his scattered in- 
tellect he had more to do in picking up himself, for we 
went over him like a thunder-storm, rattling on the draw- 
bridge, across an open space, through another gateway, 
across another draw-bridge, and so out into a long, broad 

2* 



34 ANAIIABGIRL. 

street, on each side of which was a row of acacia trees 
(known as the sont), and so to a hill that overlooks the 
city and the harbor, on which stands this solitary column, 
the lonesome relic of unknown grandeur. Of what it 
formed a part, whether of the great library, or of some 
gorgeous temple, no one knows. 

We sat down in the dust and looked up at its massive 
proportions, and admired and wondered, as hundreds of 
thousands have looked and admired in past years, and 
commented as they had, and dreamed as they had. 

Shall I confess it ? There was an Arab girl, who came 
from a mud village close by, and who stood at a little 
distance gazing at us, whose face attracted more of my 
attention than this mysterious column, in whose shade I 
sat. She was tall, slender, graceful as a deer, and her 
face exceedingly beautiful. She was not more than four- 
teen. She was dressed in the style of the country ; a 
single blue cotton shirt. As it was a female who wore it, 
perhaps it deserves another name ; but that will answer, 
since the sex did not vary the i^attcrn. It was open from 
the neck to the waist, exposing the bust, and it reached 
but to her knees. She stood erect, with a proud uj^lifted 
head, and to my imagination she answered well for a per- 
sonification of the angel of the degraded country in which 
I found myself The ancient glory was here, but, clothed 
in the garb of poverty, she was reduced to be an out- 
cast among the nations of the earth. 

As I sat on the sand and looked at her, I put out my 
hand to support myself, and it fell on a skull. Bones, 
whether of ancient or modern Egyptians I knew not 
then, lay scattered around. 

When I would have apostrophised the brown angel, she 
started in affright, and vanished in a hut built of most 
unromantic materials, such, indeed, as lay sun-drying all 
around us. It was gathered in the streets, and dried 



A M A G I C W O R D . 35 

ill cakes, wliicli served the purpose of fuel, and occasion- 
ally of house building. Six naked children of eight years 
old and under remained. No imagination could make 
them other than the filthy wretches they were. Here we 
learned the sound of that word which is omnipotent in 
Turkish lands, and which travelers now too much ridicule, 
as if its benefits belonged to the beggar. 

Before the gate of El Azhar, in Cairo, I whispered it in 
the ear of the Sheik, and it opened the old college to my 
profane feet. At the mosque of Machpelah, in Hebron, 
I said " Bucksheesh" to the venerable guardian of the 
place, and though five hundred howling Arabs were out- 
side the door shouting for him to bring me out to them, 
he said : " Come in the night, w^hen these dogs are sleej)- 
ing, and I will show you the tomb of Ibrahim." I sent it 
by my dragoman to the Bim -pasha of Jerusalem, and he 
gave me fifty soldiers, and marched me tlirough every 
corner of the mosque of Omar, or the Mesjid El Aksa. 

It is a magic word, of value to be known : spoken in- 
terrogatively, it is offensive; spoken suggestively, it is 
powerful. If you doubt it, try it, as I have. 

I have said that I did not sleep on board the ship the 
night before. Neither did I sleep on shore the first night 
in Egypt. But the cause of my wakefulness was difier- 
ent. Dogs abound in the city of the son of Philip. They 
have no special owners, and are a sort of public projoerty, 
always respected. But such infernal dog-fights as oc- 
curred once an hour under our windows no one elsewhere 
has known or heard of. I counted fifteen dogs in one 
melee the first evening, each fighting, like an Irishman in 
a fair, on his own account. 

Besides this, the watchmen of the city are a nuisance. 
There are a large number of them, and some twenty are 
stationed in and around the grand square. Every quar- 
ter of an hour, the chief of a division enters the square 



36 N I G H T K U I S A N C E S . 

and shouts liis call, which is a prolonged cry, to the 
utmost extent of his breath. As he commences, each 
watchman springs into the square ; and by the time he 
has exhausted his breath they take up the same shout in 
a body, and reply. He repeats it, and they again reply ; 
and all is then still for fifteen minutes. But as if this 
were not enough, there was a tall gaunt fellow, Avho had 
once been a dragoman, but was a poor and drunken dog 
now, and, in fact, crazy from bad habits, who slept some- 
where in the square every night, and who invariably 
echoed the Avatchmen with a yell that rang down the 
square, in unmistakable English, " all right ;" and once I 
heard him add, in the same tremendous tones, " Damn 
the rascals !" 

And just before the dawn, when the law of Mohammed 
prescribed it, at that moment that a man could distinguish 
between a white thread and a black, there was a sound 
which now came to my ears with a sweetness that I can 
not find words to express. In a moment of the utmost 
stillness, when all the earth, and air, and sky was calm 
and peaceful, a voice fell through the solemn night, clear, 
rich, prolonged, but in a tone of rare melody that thrilled 
through my ears, and I needed no one to tell me that it 
was the muezzin's call to prayer. " There is no God but 
God !" said the voice, in the words of the Book of the 
Law given on the mountain of fire, and our hearts an- 
swered the call to pray. 

My first business in Alexandria was to get on shore, 
from the steamer, the various articles which we had jiur- 
chased at Marseilles and Malta for a Avinter on the 
Nile. One of these, a cask of Marsala wine — Wood- 
house's best — must necessarily j^ass through the custom- 
house, and I was not sorry to have an opportunity of 
witnessing the fashion of collecting the revenue of the 
Viceroy of Egypt. The cask had been landed from the 



EGYPTIAN CUSTOM-HOUSE. o7 

Nubia^ and, as all the other goods here landed, was in 
the public stores of the custom-house. Business is trans- 
acted in Arabic or Italian, or in the mixed Arabic and 
Italian which forms the Maltese. We — that is, Trumbull 
and I, accompanied by a servant and interpreter — went 
first to look for the wine. Having found it, I was 
amused at the simple fashion of getting it through the 
business which, in other countries, is made so needlessly 
tedious. 

A tall Nubian, black as night, looked at the barrel, 
weighed it with his eye (it was over two hundred 
weight), twisted a cord around it, and wound the cord 
around his head, taking the strain on his forehead, and 
then, with a swing of his giant body, he had it on his 
back, and followed us to the inspector. This gentleman, 
an old Turk, with a beard not quite as heavy as my own, 
but much more gray, addressed us very pleasantly in 
Italian, and passed us along to his clerk, who sat by his 
side, each with his legs invisible under him. The proper 
certificate of the contents was here made, and sealed — 
for a Turk or Copt never writes his name, imj^ressing it 
on the paper with ink on a seal — and the black carried 
the wine to the scales to be weighed. This was done in 
an instant, the weight noted, and another man received 
the duty, whereupon it was ready to be carried up to the 
hotel. All this was done in fifteen minutes or less, and 
the majesty of the viceroy and ourselves were equally 
well satisfied. 

My next business was with the viceroy himself, and its 
object to procure a firman which should enable me to 
make excavations among the ruins of Upper Egypt. Mr. 
De Leon, who so successfully fills the post of American 
consul in Egypt, was absent on a visit to Greece. This 
consulate is by far the most important foreign consular 
appointment of our government, since it amounts to a 



38 A FIRMAN. 

Chargesliip, the Egyptian government being, in all com- 
mercial matters, independent of the Porte, and re- 
ceiving communications through the consul direct. Tlie 
power of this functionary is absolutely startling to an 
American, who suddenly finds himself in a land where he 
has no protection from the government, no obedience to 
render to it, where he is not liable to punishment for any 
oftence against its laws, and where, in fact, he may com- 
mit wholesale murder with no penalty other than being 
sent out of the country by the American consul. I 
shall speak farther of this in another place, and I allude 
to it here only to say that Mr, De Leon is most remark- 
ably successful in his difficult and responsible position, 
having secured the confidence of the government, and 
thus enabled himself more efiectually to protect travel- 
ers, who find themselves in constant need of some strong 
friend to appeal to the government in their aid. 

Durins: his absence the seal of the consulate was in the 
custody of Mr. Petersen, the vice-consul of Sweden and 
Norway, and I take this opportunity of expressing my 
thanks to him for his unremitting kindness and attention 
to us during our stay in Alexandria. 

On my representing to him my wishes, and presenting 
the papers on which I relied for the furtherance of my 
application, he went immediately to the viceroy, and 
within the forenoon of the day sent to me the desired 
paper, which was a letter directed to Latif Pasha, governor 
of Upper Egypt and Lower Nubia, resident at Es Siout, 
requiring him to furnish me with all necessary papers and 
assistance, letters to inferior governors and officers of 
whatever grade, and to provide men and beasts as I 
should demand, at any point on the river. 

The cost of this paper was a polite "thank you," 
w^iich I repeat here, as well to Mr. Petersen as to 
the Egyptian government. How invaluable it afterward 



THE ANCIENT CITY. 39 

proved to me I shall frequently have occasion to de- 
scribe. Without reference to its usefulness for the im- 
mediate objects of my visit to Egypt, it operated as an 
introduction to all men of rank in the upper country, 
and enabled me to become acquainted Avith some whose 
friendship is among the pleasantest recollections of my 
Avinter on the Nile, as well as the pleasantest anticipa- 
tions of a return. 

Alexandria has been visited by many travelers, and is 
described in all the books on Egypt, but with the ex- 
ception of the Pillar of Diocletian (Pompey's Pillar) and 
Cleopatra's Needles, there are no antiquities which have 
attracted their attention. 

The modern city stands on a neck of land, to the east- 
Avard of Avhich is the old and deserted harbor, and on 
the Avest the new, and rather inaccessible, but safe an- 
chorage in Avhich A^essels of every nation are found. As 
a port, it is one of the most important on the Mediter- 
ranean, especially as the Avestern terminus of the Suez 
railway, Avhich is soon to be completed across the isth- 
mus ; and which renders the proposed canal, across the 
isthmus, more than ever undesirable. The chief trade 
of the port is in coals from England, and grain and cot- 
ton thither. 

But around modern Alexandria, in all directions, lie 
mounds of yelloAv dust and sand, destitute of the slight- 
est vegetation, and burning in the hot sun. Under 
these mounds lie the ruins of the city of the Ptolemies. 
Excavations are carried on continually, but only to ob- 
tain stone for building purposes, to be used in walls or 
burned for lime. No investigations have been made by 
antiquarians, as yet, among these hills, where there is, 
Avithout doubt, a rich store of treasure to be opened. 
Here, indeed, but little of the very ancient is to be ex- 
pected. It Avas in the later days of Egypt, Avhen the 



40 CATACOMBS. 

Pharaohs had been succeeded by the Ptolemies, when 
Memphis was old, and Thebes was crumbling into ruin, 
that the Alexandrian splendor filled the eastern, though 
it was then called the western, world. 

I had no desire to sj^end time or money here, further 
than to take one step backward in time before I found 
myself treading the halls of Remeses. 

The Pillar of Diocletian I have already mentioned. 
The ISTeedles of Cleopatra, as they have been long called, 
are in their old sites, one standing erect where the spray 
of the sea washes over it, in the eastern part of the city, 
the other lying on the ground, almost under ground in- 
deed, near it. But not being in their original positions, 
having been brought here in Roman times, they possess 
but little more interest than that at Paris, scarcely so 
much as those at Rome. 

The Baths of Cleopatra, as they are called, ancient 
tombs open and partially sunken in the sea, on the west 
side of the city, are interesting only as deserted tombs, 
without name or mark. Having visited these, we sup- 
posed the antiquities of Alexandria Avere "done." 

But the Maltese Abrams^ whom I have mentioned, and 
whom I recommend as a capital servant, told us of cer- 
tain catacombs that he knew of, three miles east of the 
city on the sea shore, where the natives were digging 
lime-stone for building purposes and for burning. Ac- 
cordingly we rode out one day to look at them. 

It proved a fortunate discovery, esj^ecially as on my re- 
turn to Alexandria I found that these catacombs were en- 
tirely dug away and all aj^pearance of them had vanished, 
although there remain doubtless many tombs under the 
ground never yet reached, for future explorers to open. 

We were no novices in donkey-riding by this time ; 
you would have supposed that we were used to riding 
them all our lives, had you seen the four which we mount- 



ANECROPOLIS. 41 

ed, and the speed at which we dashed down the long- 
street that leads to the Rosetta gate, followed by our 
four boys, shouting and screaming to the groups of people 
walking before us. We raised a cloud of dust all the 
way, and elicited not a few Mohammedan curses from 
women with vailed faces, whose black eyes flashed con- 
tempt on the bare faces of Amy and Miriam. Now 
working to w^indward of a long row of camels laden with 
stone, now to leeward of a gathering of women around a 
fruit-stall, now passing a funeral procession that went 
chanting their songs along the middle of the way — we 
dashed, in a confused heap, donkeys and boys, through 
the arched gateway, to the terror of the Pasha's soldiers 
who sat smoking under the shade, and who had heard 
doubtless of our victory over the guard on the first day, 
across the draw-bridge with a thunder that you would 
not have believed the donkey's hoof could have extracted 
from the plank, through the second arch, and out into the 
desolate tract of land, without grass, or tree, or living 
object for miles, where once stood the palaces of the city 
of Cleopatra. 

Winding our way over the mounds of earth that con- 
cealed the ruins, catching sight here and there of a pro- 
jecting cornice, a capital, or a slab of polished stone, we 
at length descended to the shore at the place where the 
men were now engaged in digging out stone for lime and 
buildings in the modern city. 

Formerly the shore for a mile or more must have been 
bordered by a great necropolis, all cut in solid rock. 
During a thousand years the entire shore has sunk, I 
have no means of estimating how much, but not less than 
thirty feet, as I judge from a rough observation ; it may 
have been fifty, or even more. By this many of the rock- 
hewn tombs have been submerged entirely, and those on 
shore have been depressed, and many of them thrown out 



42 OPENINGOLDTOMBS. 

of perpendicular, while the rock has been cracked, and 
sand has filled the subterranean chambers. Of the period 
at which these tombs were commenced we have no means 
now of judging. It is sufficiently manifest, however, that 
they have served the purposes of successive generations 
of nations, if I may use the expression; and have in turn 
held Egyptians, who were removed to make room for 
Romans, who themselves slept only until the Saracens 
needed places for their long sleep. 

Already great numbers of tombs had been opened and 
their contents scattered. The fellaheen who were at work 
proceeded rapidly in their Yandalish business. Some long 
corridors stood open in the white limestone of the hill, 
and broken pottery and innumerable bones lay scattered 
around. An afternoon was consumed in the first mere look- 
ing at these catacombs. Returning the next morning, we 
selected a spot Avhere the workmen had gone deej^est, 
and hired a dozen men to work under our direction. 
Miriam and Amy sat in a niche of an open tomb, shaded 
from the sun, and looking out at the sea, which broke 
with a grand surf at their very feet. 

After breaking into three in succession of the unopened 
niches, we at length struck on one which had evidently 
escaped Saracen invasion. It was in the lowest tier of 
three on the side of an arched chamber, protected by a 
heavy stone slab inlaid in cement. It required gunpow- 
der to start it. The tomb was about two feet six inches 
wide by the same height, and extended seven feet into 
the rock. The others on all sides of the room were of 
the same dimensions. There were in all twenty-four. 

Upon opening this and entering it, we found a skeleton 
lying at full length, in remarkable preservation, evidently 
that of a man in the prime of life. At his head stood an 
alabaster vase, plainly but beautifully cut, in .perfect pre- 
servation, and as pure and white as if carved but yester- 



FUNEREAL VASES. 



43 



day. The height of the vase is seventeen and a half 
inches, the greatest diameter nine and a half inches. 

It consisted of four diiferent pieces — the pedestal, the 
main part of the vase, the cover, and the small knob or 
handle on the top ; not broken but so cut originally. 

This vase Mr. Trumbull subsequently shipped to Amer- 
ica, where I am happy to say it arrived safely. (The cut 
at the end of this chapter exhibits the form of this vase.) 

Pursuing our success, we removed the bones of the 
dead man, reserving only a few to go with the vase, and 
then searched carefully the floor of the tomb, which Avas 




EARTUEN VASE FOUND AT ALEXANDRIA. 



covered with fine dust and sand. Here we at length hit 
on the top of another vase ; and after an hour of careful 
and diligent work, we took out from a deep sunk hole in 
the rock, scarcely larger than itself, an Etruscan vase, 
which on opening we found to contain burned bones and 



44 APAINTEDTOMB. 

ashes, as fresh in appearance as if but yesterday de- 
posited. 

This vase or urn is fifteen inches high, and its largest 
diameter is eleven inches. It is of fine earthenware orna- 
mented with flowers and devices. 

This vase was too fragile to attempt to send to Amer- 
ica, and I left it with Mr. De Leon. The reader will ob- 
serve the peculiar position of this vase, in the bottom of a 
tomb under the bones of a dead man. There was another 
similar hole in the same tomb, but no vase in it. In the 
bottom of another tomb we found another alabaster urn 
similarly sunken. It was of ungraceful shape, being 
simply a tub with a cover. 

In one of the lowest excavations we found a tomb 
which was painted in ancient Egyj^tian style, but it was 
so filled with damp sand that nothing remained of the 
paintings except near the roof which was arched and 
plastered. There was nothing to indicate the period of 
its occupation, but it is interesting as being the only tomb 
I have ever heard of as discovered at Alexandria which 
was of ancient Egyptian character. All the sarcophagi 
and tombs hitherto found here have been considered of 
Greek or Roman period. This, however, was unmistaka- 
ble, the heads and upper j^arts of the figures being as 
brilliant and fresh as the tombs at Thebes. Being on a 
much lower level than any other that we penetrated, it 
was possibly of ante-Greek times ; but it may have been 
the tomb of an Egyptian who retained ancient customs 
after Greek dates. 

With this we finished our day's labor, then strolled 
along the shore, and looked at the gorgeous sunset, right 
over the Pharos, and then mounting our donkeys, and car- 
rying our vases and sundry pieces of broken pottery in our 
hands, we rode slowly into the city. I wondered whether 
the old Greek or Roman whose burned bones I was shak- 



AN ACCIDENT. 45 

ing about in the vase on the pommel of my donkey-saddle 
had any idea of the curious resurrection he was under- 
i:>-oing in modern Iskandereyeh, or whether it disturbed 
him beyond the Styx when I shook out his ashes on a copy 
of the London Times spread on the floor of Caesar Tor- 
tilla's Hotel d'Europe. Caesar is a good fellow by-the-by, 
and his hotel admirable for the East. 

The next morning we were up and away at an earliei- 
hour, but fearing to fatigue the ladies too much by a sec- 
ond long ride, we took a carriage to drive out as near as 
possible to the catacombs. It was not the Oriental fash- 
ion. We had no right to try it. The driver said he could 
do it easily, he had done it before, and lied like an Italian 
about it, so that Ave trusted him. We had hardly gone 
out of the Rosetta gate, and turned up the first hill over 
the ruins of the ancient city, when one of the horses 
baulked, and the carriage began backing, but instead of 
backing straight, the forewheels cramped, and the first 
plunge of the baulky horse forward took him and us over 
the side of the bank and down a steep descent into an ex- 
cavation. The pole of the carriage snapped short ofi', the 
other horse, dragged into the scrape by his companion, fell 
down, and the carriage ran directly over him, and rested 
on his body. The ladies sprang out as it stopped, and we 
all reached the ground safely ; but there was another ruin 
on the top of the old ruins. It was, in point of fact, what 
we call in America a total smash, and we sent back for 
donkeys, while we amused ourselves with wandering over 
the site of the old city. 

This day I determined to go deeper into the vaults 
of the catacombs, if possible, than before, and I com- 
menced on the side of the sea in the room that was 
painted in the brilliant colors of the Egyptians. Setting 
my men at work here by the light of candles, I was not 
long in penetrating the bottom of the chamber by a hole 



46 A SEPULCHRAL CHAMBER. 

which opened mto the roof of a similar room, below. I 
thrust myself through the hole as rapidly as possible, but 
found that the earth had filled it to within three feet of 
the top. Two hours' work cleared it out ; but I found 
nothing, for the dampness of the sea had reached it, and 
all was destroyed except the solid walls. 

A few moments later one of the men came to tell me 
that they had opened a new gallery of tombs, and I has- 
tened to see it. Though not what I expected from their 
description, it was sufficiently strange to be worth exam- 
ining. 

Crawling on my hands and knees about twenty feet 
through an arched passage cut in the stone, and measur- 
ing thirty-two inches in width by thirty-six in height 
at the centre, I found myself in a chamber twenty-one feet 
long by fifteen broad. The roof was a plain arch. Its 
height it was impossible to tell, for the earth had sifted 
into it through huge fissures in the rock, and by the slow 
accumulation of two thousand years or less, had filled it 
on one side to within eight feet of the roof But the 
earth had come in only on that side, and had run down in 
a steep slope toward the other side, which was not so full 
by fifteen feet. Nevertheless there was no floor visible 
there, but the lowest stones in that wall w^ere huge slabs 
of granite, and on digging down I could see that the slope 
of the earth ran under them, into what I have no doubt 
was a stone staircase, arched with granite, leading down 
into the catacombs below. The room was plastered plainly 
with a smooth whitish-gray plaster on three sides. The 
fourth side, that over the granite stairway, and, as I have 
explained, the side where the earth was lowest, was solid 
rock, with two immense shelves of rock, one six feet above 
the other, left there in the excavation, and evidently in- 
tended as places on which to stand funeral urns and vases. 
But what struck me as most remarkable, was that a rough 



DEAD MEN'S COUCHES. 



47 



projecting cornice was left across the chamber, corres- 
ponding with the fronts of the shelves, in which were five 
immense iron nails, or spikes, with heads measuring two 
inches across. The heads of but two were left, the others 




TOMB IN THE CATACOMBS OF ALEXANDRIA, 

having rusted off. I could not imagine any object to 
which these nails Avere applied, unless to hold planks 
which may at some time have covered these shelves. 

Upon the shelves were lying masses of broken pottery 
and vases ; but nothing perfect or valuable. I then pro- 
ceeded to strike the plastered walls with my hammer, and 
at length found a place that sounded hollow. Two fel- 
laheen went to work instantly, and soon opened a niche 
which had been walled up and plastered over. It was in 
the usual shape, two feet eight inches wide, by three feet 
high in the centre, and seven feet deep. In it lay a skel- 
eton and the dust of a dead man, nothing more. I pro- 
ceeded, and in an hour I had opened twelve similar niches, 
or openings, some larger, and containing as many as three 



48 DUSTTODUST. 

skeletons each. It was a strange sensation that of crawl- 
ing into these resting-places of the dead of long ago on 
my hands and knees, feeling the soft and moss-like crush 
of the bones mider me, and digging with my fingers in 
the dust for memorials of its life and activity. My clothes, 
my eyes, my throat, were covered and filled with the fine 
dust of the dead, and I came out at length more of an 
ancient than modern in external appearance. 

During the process of my investigations the passage- 
way by which we had entered was darkened, and I soon 
saw Miriam on her hands and knees, guided by an Egypt- 
ian boy, creeping into the cavern to see what was going 
on. Having opened all of three tiers of graves that were 
above ground, I found between the tops of the niches 
smaller niches, plastered over like the others, and con- 
taining broken urns and the remains of burned bones. I 
found nothing in all this gloomy series of graves but a few 
lamps of earthenware, blackened about the hole for the 
wick, sad emblems of departed light and life. 

We came out from the vaults and walked down to the 
beach, where the cool wind revived us. Four hundred 
feet from the shore was a curious rocky island. Trumbull 
and myself went out to it. It was full of open tombs, a 
part of the great necropolis sunken in the sea, and all the 
way from the shore we found traces of the same great 
burial-place. 

We left the catacombs again at sunset, and rode home 
slowly over the hills. As w^e entered the gate of the 
city Ave met a marriage j^rocession, the bride surrounded 
by her female friends on the way to her husband's house. 
She carried on her head a huge box, or chest, containing 
all her dower, and her friends shouted and sang as they 
passed us. We quickened our speed as we approached 
the great square, and dashed up to the door of the hotel 
at a furious gallop. There the scene in the evening was 



HOTEL DEUROPE 



49 



always the same. A crowd of donkey boys quarreling 
with their employers for extra fees, shouts, curses in 
countless languages, a perfect Babel of tongues, from 
which it was a pleasure to escaj^e to the cheerful dining- 
room and the capital dinners that we always found there. 




ALABASTEK VASE FOUND AT ALEXANDRIA. 



4. 

Alexandria, or Iskandereyeh, will amply repay the 
traveler who visits it and goes no further. To find him- 
self in the land of bananas and palms, of prickly pears, 
and almonds, and oranges, is enough alone to make the 
trip across the Mediterranean worth while, and to this is 
added the immediate association with the East, and the 
intermixture of the oriental with the western, which is 
sufficiently amusing to repay one for a w^eek of sea-sick- 
ness. Beside all this he is in the old world here — the 
older world than Greece and Rome — for it is undeniable 
that, long before this city of Alexandria was adopted by 
the Greeks, there was a powerful and opulent city of the 
Egyptians on this ground ; and, underneath the mounds 
around it, lie the remains of men and their achievements, 
not alone of the centuries immediately prior to the 
Christian era, but of the far remote ages of which we 
can only hope to know the faintest outlines of history. 

Perhaps, hereafter, some excavator, more fortunate 
than I, may find in Alexandrian catacombs the history 
of Hhacotis, the city which preceded Alexandria. 

My time here was limited by engagements at Cairo. 
To the traveler who wishes to see only the external ap- 
pearance of things, or to look only at the ground which 
overlies old cities, or on which they once stood, one or 



THEDEATHLAMP. 61 

two days will suffice, as well as a month or a year, to see 
the city of the Ptolemies. But we caught ourselves 
often standing for an hour before a modern Egyptian 
house, in the Avail of which w^as worked a piece of old 
marble, whose exquisite carving and polish proved it to 
be a part of the old city ; possibly from the pediment of a 
temple ; possibly from the boudoir of a lady ; possibly 
from the throne-chamber of a king. To me Alexandria 
was deeply interesting. Conjecture — or, if you prefer 
the phrase, imagination — was never idle as I passed 
along the streets of the modern city, or over the mounds 
that cover the ancient. It was most active in the tombs, 
where Ave found the ashes of the men of Alexandria of 
all periods in its eventful history, and the memorials of 
their lives and deaths. 

There Avas one small earthen lamp, one of a dozen Avhich 
we found in the catacombs, all alike in general form, and 
every one blackened about the opening for the Avick, 
with the smoke of the last flame that went out in the 
closed tomb. 

Over that lamp I Avasted, if you choose to call it waste, 
many hours in the evening and night, sitting at the open 
AvindoAV of my room on the grand square, and listening 
to the cry of the watchmen and the call of the muezzin 
at the late hours of prayer. There Avas nothing pe- 
culiar about it except a monogram on the top. It Avas 
of the simplest form of ancient lamps, Avith a hole for the 
oil and a smaller one for the wick ; but there was on the 
surface a cross, on one arm of which was a semicircle 
rudely forming the Greek character JiAo, the cross and 
the letter together signifying the Xp, the familiar ab- 
breviation of the name of our Lord. I knoAV not hoAV 
many centuries that peaceful slumberer in His promises 
had remained undisturbed; but when I saw that Ave had 
broken the rest of one AA^ho slept in hope of the resurrec- 



52 S AI NT OR M ART YR. 

tion, that we had rudely scattered on the winds of the sea 
the ashes of one over whom, in the long gone years, had 
been read the sublime words, "I am the resurrection 
and the life," perhaps by Cyril the great bishop, perhaps 
by Mark himself— when I saw those crumbling bones 
under my feet, and thought in what strong faith that 
r'lsht arm had been lifted to heaven in the hour of ex- 
tremity, I felt that it was sacrilege to have opened his 
tomb and disturbed his rest. 

True, the Arabs would have reached him next year ; 
but I would rather it had been the Arabs than I. True, 
he who promised can find the dust, though it be scat- 
tered on the deserts of Africa. But I have a more than 
Roman veneration for the repose of the dead ; and, 
though I felt no compunctions of conscience in scatter- 
ing the dust of the Arabs, who had themselves robbed 
the tombs of their predecessors to make room for them- 
selves, yet I did not like the ojoening of that quiet place 
in Avhich a Christian of the early days was buried. 

Who was he ? Again imagination was on the wing. 
He was one of those who had heard the voices of the 
apostles ; he was one of those who had seen the fierce 
faith of the martyrs in their agony ; he was one who had 
himself suffered unto death for the love of his Lord and 
Master. Or possibly that were too wild a fancy, for such 
a man would hardly have a tomb like this. If so it were, 
they must have buried him by night, with no torch, no 
pomp, no light save the dim flickering light of this fu- 
nereal lamp guiding their footsteps down the corridors 
of this vast city of the dead ; and this they left beside 
him — sad emblem of his painful life — the light of faith, 
pure though faint, in the darkness that was all around him. 

Men were sublime in faith in those days. It was but 
as yesterday, to them, that the footsteps of their Lord 
were on the mountain of Ascension — it was but as ves- 



HADHESEEN CHRIST? 53 

terday that the voice of Paul was heard across the sea. 
Perhaps those dusty fingers had grasped the hand that 
had often been taken lovingly in that hand which the 
nail pierced. Perhaps — perhaps — I bowed my head rev- 
erently as the thought flashed across me — for I do rever- 
ence to the bones of the great dead, and though I would 
not worship, yet I would enshrine in gold and diamonds 
a relic of a saint — perhaps, in some far wandering from 
his home, this man had entered Jerusalem, and stood 
within the porch of the temple when He went by in all 
the majesty of his lowliness. 

You smile at the wild fancy. Why call it wild ? Turn 
but your head from before the doorway of the sepulchre, 
and you see that column, at the foot of which Mark 
taught the words of his Lord ; and turn again to yonder 
obelisk, and read that the king, who knew not Joseph, 
but whom Moses and Aaron knew, carved it in honor of 
liis reign. Why, then, may not this tomb, which I have 
opened, a hundred feet below the surface of the hill, con- 
tain the dust of one who has traveled as far as the land 
of Judea, only eighteen hundred years ago ; who had 
seen the visible presence of him whom prophets and 
kings desired to see ; and who, won by the kingly coun- 
tenance, the holy sweetness of that face, went homeward, 
bearing with him enough of memory of that face and 
voice to rejoice at the coming of " John, whose surname 
was Mark," and to listen to the teaching of the gospel 
of the Messiah ? 

It startles those unused to Egyptian antiquities to hear 
the far past spoken of as thus present with us. But the 
facts are powerful and undeniable. 

One grows terribly old in visiting Egypt. 

It is a foct little thought of, scarcely known at all out 
of scientific circles, that Colonel Howard Vyse, the emi- 
nent EngHshman whose excavations in the pyramids at 



54 KING MYCERINUS. 

Ghizeh and Sakkarah have contributed to science nearly- 
all that we know concerning those stupendous remains, 
found in the third pyramid at Ghizeh, the broken coffin 
of its builder, and the remains of a mummy, bones and 
flesh, and clothes, that we have every reason to believe 
are those of Mycerinus. 

Any Englishman strolling down Regent street of a 
winter morning, may turn aside a few blocks and look in 
a glass case, in the British Museum, on those bones and 
sinews, and believe with reason that the world knew no 
greater monarch, in the twenty-first century before Christ, 
than he whose dust and bones lie there ! By their side, 
is the coffin found bearing his name, and we know from 
Herodotus, that his period was long before the date of 
any dynasty that we can connect with known history. 

If, then, the bones of the almost immediate successor 
of Cheops are in a museum in England, why may I not 
imagine that some of these bones in Alexandria were 
living even a few brief centuries ago ? 

The inhabitants of modern Alexandria are of all nations 
and kinds. Many of the Europeans are wealthy, and live 
in considerable style, driving handsome equipages, with 
elegantly-dressed footmen running before and crying, 
" Clear the way," in the day-time, or at night carrying 
liuge torches made by burning light-wood in an iron 
frame on the end of a pole, and technically known as 
Meshalks. Much business is done here, and many men 
are employed in various ways, earning the low wages of 
the Egyptian fellaheen, which never exceed a piastre 
and a half, or about eight cents per day. The large 
standing army of Said Pasha, of which a considerable de- 
tachment is always here, is necessarily attended by the 
wives and children of the soldiers, who lounge about the 
streets, especially in the sunny and dusty suburbs, in all 
stages of nakedness. 



FEMALE MODESTY. 55 

It is difficult to say what constitutes poverty in Egypt. 
We should say, were they in America, or in Euroj^e, that 
the large mass of inhabitants were in squalid, abject, 
hopeless poverty. But on examination they seem fat, 
and certainly far happier, than the lower classes of any 
other nation I have seen, and this when (I speak literally 
now) the poverty of the most degraded, begging outcast 
in New York, would be positive wealth to them here. 
One solitary ragged shirt is the sole property, the entire 
furniture, estate, and expectancy, of ninety-nine out of a 
hundred of the inhabitants of Egypt in the cities of Alex- 
andria and Cairo. A man and his wife, or his two or more 
wives, will possess a shirt to each, and a straw mat, old, 
worn, and muddy, and have no other possession on earth 
except naked children without a rag of clothing. 

Nakedness is no shame here. Children up to ten and 
twelve years of age, go about the streets with either one 
ragged, filthy cloth wound around them, or, as frequently, 
entirely naked. Groups often or a dozen play in the sun- 
shine here and there, without a rag of covering from head 
to foot. The older people are scarcely more clad. A 
single long blue shirt suffices for a woman of any ordinary 
class. It is open in front to the -^vaist, and reaches below 
the knees. A piece of the same cloth, by way of vail 
around the head, is the substitute for the elegant head, 
coverings of the wealthy classes. The upper part of the 
body is, of course, entirely exposed, and no one seems to 
think of covering the breast from sun, wind, or eyes. 
The face is usually hidden by the cloth held in the hand, 
while the entire body is exposed without the slightest 
attention to decency. Not unfrequently, when the wo- 
man has not the extra covering for her head, she will 
seize and lift her solitary garment to hide her features, 
thereby leaving her person uncovered, it being in her 
view a shame only to exhibit her face. 



56 STREET COSTUMES. 

The women of Egypt are by nature magnificently 
formed, and tlie habit of carrying burdens on their heads 
gives them an erect shaj^e and high cast of the head which 
continues to extreme old age. I never saw a bent old 
v/oman. I remember seeing one woman carrying a small 
piece of bread on her head from which she occasionally 
bit a piece, replacing it immediately on its shelf, and Mr. 
Williams of the Indian Hotel, in Cairo, told me that he 
had seen a hawk take a piece of meat from the head of a 
servant as she was carrying it home, an incident that re- 
minded me forcibly of the story of Saad and Saadi in the 
Arabian Nights, and the loss of the turban. 

The men wear whatever they possess in the way of 
cloth. Doubtless one garment lasts a lifetime, and is 
ignorant of water oftener than once a year. Their cos- 
tume is various. Some wear the single shirt ; others, a 
mass of dirty cloth wound round the body, neck, and 
head ; others, a coarse blanket made of camel's-hair, which 
they throw rather gracefully over their shoulders, leaving 
a corner to come over the head. The costumes vary so 
much that I think I counted over thirty entirely different 
and distinct styles of dress, in the square, in Alexandria, 
before my windows, at one time. 

These remarks, of course, are understood as applying 
to the middle and lower classes. The wealthy Orientals 
wear gorgeous dresses. The men usually adopt the 
Nizam dress, and the ladies revel in silks and jewels that 
would craze a New York belle. 

I obtained admission into one hareem, of which, and 
the splendor of the dresses, as well as the beauty of a 
Greek girl that I saw there, I shall speak when writing 
of the Holy Land. 

The railway was completed only to Kafr-el-Aish, on 
the Nile, and thence we went to Cairo by steamboat. 
Constructed by English engineers, and under the super- 



E G YPTI A N R A ILW A Y . 57 

intendence of a Scotch gentleman, I think I am safe in 
saying that there is no raihvay in America so complete, 
well constructed, and safe as this of Egypt. It is the 
private property of the viceroy, and with this fact in 
view, and the additional fact that it is already nearly 
complete to Suez, capitalists may judge how probable it 
is that Said Pasha is sincere in forwarding the canal j)ro- 
ject, which would cut off all freight-travel to either Cairo 
or Alexandria. I am convinced that his opinions have 
been misrepresented to induce capitalists to embark in 
the scheme of the Suez ship-canal, and that the true in- 
terests of the Egyj^tian government are most decidedly 
against it. 

It was somewhat strange, as may well be imagined, to 
see a train of cars, surrounded by a hundred guards in 
turbans and tarbouches, starting out of a city of mud 
houses, through groves of palms and bananas, winding 
it way around the Pillar of Diocletian and off into the 
dismal waste that separates Lake Mareotis from the sea. 
The speed was at first but slow, even slower than the 
usual starting rate with us at home ; but on reaching the 
open country we made some thirty miles an hour steadily 
until we came to Kafr-el-Aish, w^hich was then the ter- 
minus of the road on the Rosetta branch of the Nile, 
eighty miles below Cairo. Here we were transferred to 
the steamer in waiting for us, the first and second class 
passengers going on the steamer, and the third class tak- 
ing an ordinary river boat, which was to be towed three 
hundred feet astern. 

It was impossible to get up any enthusiasm about the 
Nile. This was indeed one of the branches of the great 
river, but only one of them, and it was hardly more the 
Nile than was the Mahmoud Canal in Alexandria, whose 
waters are the same. The stream was muddy, flowing 
high between its banks, and sometimes overflowing them, 

3* 



58 THE NILE. 

and it was out of the question to admire such a mass of 
mud. The hot sun shone fiercely on it, and the banks, 
uninteresting in all respects, seemed to be broiling out a 
patient existence, while here and there a collection of 
mud huts, bee-hive like, gave the sole evidence of the life 
of man in the Delta. 

As the sun went down, the deck of the boat began to 
present a strange spectacle. One by one the Mussulmans 
w^ent out on the little guard behind the wheel-house and 
performed their ablutions in the prescribed style, and 
then ascended the wheel-houses, kitchens, state-room 
decks, and every other elevated place, and went through 
the postures and prayers. It was certainly curious to 
see a row of ten or fifteen men on each side of the deck 
bowing in the strange but graceful forms of the Moham- 
medan worship. We lay and looked at them till the 
evening had passed into night, and then wrapping our 
shawls around us, slept on the deck till roused by the 
passage of the barrage. 

This, it is not necessary to explain, is the magnificent 
stone bridge intended to ojDerate as a dam, which Mo- 
hammed Ali projected, and his successors have continued 
to its present state, across the Nile, at the point of the 
Delta where it separates into different mouths, the object 
being to raise the water somewhat higher and increase 
the annual inundation. The wild appearance of the stone 
piers, between which we passed, lit by immense torches 
of blazing wood, and swarming with half-naked Arabs, 
whose swarthy countenances glared on us in the flicker- 
ing light like the faces of so many fiends, roused us from 
slumber; but we relapsed instantly into deeper sleep, 
which remained unbroken until we arrived at Boulak, 
the port of the modern city, and thence we drove swiftly, 
by the light of a torch in the hands of a swift runner, up 
the long avenue and into the gate of the Ezbekieh, and 



SPECTRES AND ANGELS. 59 

were at last in the city of the Mamelukes, Cairo the Vic- 
torious, Cairo the Magnificent, Cairo the Beautiful, and 
the Blessed. 

Shall I confess it ? There were two trains of thought 
Struggling for precedence in my mind during the first 
half hour after my arrival, nor did the one gain entire 
ascendancy until I was in bed and nearly asleep, as the 
day was breaking over the red hills. The one was full 
of all the wonderful creations of the Arabian Nio-hts. 
The heroes and all the natural and supernatural person- 
ages of those exquisite imaginations were around me in 
troops the moment I was within the city of Salah-e'deen. 
With these spectres angels strove. I could call it nothing 
else. Sublime and solemn memories, that forever linger 
in this spot, of all the mighty men of that ancient relig- 
ion, of which our own is but the new form, of patriarchs 
and holy men of old, of prophets and priests in later 
days, who came down with the scattered remnant of the 
line of Abraham ; and last of all, of the mother of our 
Lord, and his own infant footsteps; all these came to 
drive away the genii that were around me, and before I 
slept the seal of Solomon was over them again. 



(0« 

After four weeks in Cairo I began to feel at home. 
With a reasonable amount of curiosity and perseverance, 
one may accompUsh a good deal in the way of studying 
geography in that time. 

What I did, and how I did it, it would be difficult, nay, 
impossible even, in many instances, to describe. There 
were mornino: rides alons: interminable narrow lanes, 
where I would often lift my stick, just three feet long, 
and holding it horizontally show Miriam, whose donkey 
kept close behind mine everywhere, that that was the 
exact width of the passage, called here a street, while the 
overlapping lattices of the opposite houses shut out the 
sunshine from above us. There were afternoon sittings 
in the bazaars, on the shop front of Suleiman Eft'endi or 
old Khamil the silk and embroidery merchant. One day 
I was in the unknown depths of the well of Yusef in the 
citadel, and another I w^as discussing history with Sheikh 
Hassan in the Mosk el Azhar, and almost every morning 
I smoked a sheeshee with Dr. Abbott, and talked of 
ancient Egypt. 

The modern Orient and the ancient East w^ere thus 
daily before me, and picking up a little Arabic for com- 
mon uses from day to day, I had soon but little need of a 
dragoman, except as a guide to spots I desired to visit. 



ABOUTTOWN. 61 

Some months later than this I saw Damascus. I was 
disappointed in my hopes of reacliing Bagdad, but I have 
little doubt of the universal truth of my remark, that 
Cairo is the most oriental city of the East. I use the 
word in a sense in Avhich most persons will understand 
me Avitliout explanation. Damascus was more European 
in external appearance ; Cairo is the heart of the Orient. 

During our first week in Cairo we had tried various 
donkeys, and at length selected four which were much 
the best, and these remained in our service for a month. 

I commend Mohammed Olan to all travelers as a 
donkey-boy, if he be not already grown out of that posi- 
tion : for he seemed in a fair way to emerge into a drago- 
man's servant, that being first stejD toward being drago- 
man. Donkey-boys pick up a little English and French, 
and thus become fit for servants to travelers. 

Every morning, therefore, our donkeys stood before 
the door of the Indian Hotel, under the large lebbek 
trees, on the side of the Ezbekieh, and a general shout 
of good morning welcomed our first appearance. The 
ladies' saddles were English. All visitors to Egypt will 
do well to provide themselves with, these at Malta. In 
Egypt, they will find them scarce, poor, and high-priced. 

We took a regular morning gallop up the Mouski, 
which is the chief Frank street, and leads directly to the 
Turkish bazaars. In the latter our faces were well 
known. 

If you visit them, O traveler, remember Suleiman 
Efiendi, for my sake. He is the oldest man, with the 
longest and whitest beard, and he smokes the most deli- 
cious Latakea of all the merchants in the bazaars within 
the chains, which chains forbid the entrance of camels or 
donkeys among the jewels and amber and rare silks and 
broideries that there abound. Many summery noons I lost 
in clouds of forgetfulness, seated in dreamy langour, with 



62 SULEIMANEFFENDI. 

Suleiman the Magnificent on his little shop front, dis- 
coursing in words that w'ere less frequent than the vol- 
leys of smoke, subjects of profound interest : such as the 
reason why the smoke went upward, and why the fire 
seemed brighter in the shade than the sunshine, and 
why the sunshine was pleasant, and why w^e liked what 
was pleasant more than what was not pleasant, and many 
other marvelous and inexplicable things, in regard to all 
which we arrived at much the same conclusions, and 
always with complete satisfaction. 

Ah, my friend, you may not know the luxury of such 
discussions — you who waste golden hours in idle w^ords, 
raising what you call theories, and disputing and anni- 
hilating them, and sharpening and hurting one another's 
intellects with useless- and sounding words. 

Not so we who have learned the mystery of things in 
the cool shades of the Cairene bazaars, from whose lips, 
blue smoke issues in place of theories ; and is not the 
smoke of equal value ? For this was the style of our dis- 
cussion : 

" O Suleiman Effendi, wherefore is it that the sun- 
shine falls into the bazaar, and why does it not pause up 
yonder above the roof of the wakalla ?" 

And Suleiman heard me, but he was not the man to 
bother himself about a matter which he could explain in 
one word, and so he sent a cloud of blue smoke up into 
the sunshine, and, after a pause of some minutes, uttered 
the word, 

" Inshallah." / 

" But, O Effendi, wherefore is it that you Moham- 
medans do not look into these things ? One would sup- 
pose you did not care how soon the old roof over the 
bazaars up yonder fell and crushed you. Will it not fall? 
— look at it ?" 

The old man poured out a long sunbeam of smoke, for 



D A II K E Y E S . 63 

the window in the crazy roof let the rays fall just before 
him, and again ejaculated a guttural " Inshallah." 

"O Suleiman the honorable, listen to me. I, Bra- 
heem Effendi, owe you a thousand piastres for the amber 
mouth-piece I bought of you yesterday. I am American, 
and there is no law in Musr to make me j^ay you. I 
shall go without paying you." 

" Inshallah." 

" I am going now." 

" Inshallah." 

I dismounted from the shop front, shuffled on my 
red slippers, and, as I bade him good-morning, the old 
man uttered for once a somewhat disturbed " Bismillah," 
as if he were astonished that I was in earnest ; and then 
as I vanished in the crowd beyond the chains, he relapsed 
into his ancient kief and left it all to God. 

There is something comfortable about all this to a man 
who has lived in fast America, and who has always had a 
lazy inclination to leave matters to take care of them- 
selves. 

Sometimes we rode hour after hour around the streets 
of Cairo, looking at old lattices, quaintly and elaborately 
carved, catching once in a while the vision of- a beautiful 
face through some small opening, and carrying away with 
>/ us the blessings of smiles from dark eyes. Ah me, how 
many smiles I have had from unknown beauties that I 
shall never see again ; and yet, if one meets a fair woman 
in the street, or on the steamer, or even but sees her on 
the other side of a Cairene lattice, and exchanges a smile 
with her, it is a thing of beauty to be remembered for- 
ever ; for who knows that we shall not meet again some- 
where. I wonder if I shall ever meet again that black- 
eyed girl that looked at me in the street just inside the 
Bab el Nasr. She was riding on a high-saddled donkey, 
between two slaves, following three other women, who 



64 MOSK OF SULTAN HASSAN. 

looked all alike, and all like her. For a woman of Cairo, 
who belongs to a wealthy hareeni, is, when abroad, but a 
huge bundle of black silk, with a thick white vail, through 
which two eyes flash like stars. 

I was last of our party — she last of hers — and, as she 
went by me, suddenly her white hand threw back the 
vail, and all the lustre of her magniticent countenance 
shone on me. It was like those visions that we have in 
dreams that remain forever impressed on the memory. I 
can never forget that face — nor would I, if I could. She 
was not so exquisitely beautiful as the Greek girl I after- 
ward saw in a hareem in Syria, of whom I shall have some- 
what to say there, but her calm white face, her regular 
features moulded in the most perfect manner, her red 
lips ripe, full, and overflowing with fun, and, above all, her 
eyes of deep, splendid beauty were enough to remember 
for a day or a lifetime. 

In one of our rambles about town, going up one street 
and down another, without heeding whither they led us, 
we found ourselves one day at the great entrance of the 
mosk of the Sultan Hassan, and dismounted to enter 
it. Outside the door were venders of trifles of various 
sorts; a kind of old junk dealers, second-hand clothiers, 
and sellers of paste and imitation jewelry. Among 
them were venders of Meccan curiosities — sandal-wood 
beads, and the wood, dipped in the holy well of Hagar, 
which they use to clean their teeth with. All, or nearly 
all, the Moslems have good teeth, kept white with this 
wood, a small stick of which, chewed at one end, forms a 
soft brush, which they use till the whole is worn away. 

The mosk is a grand structure, chiefly interesting from 
being built of the stone which was the casing of the 
great Pyramid of Ghizeh. It is the most imposing struct- 
m-e in all the Mohammedan countries I have visited, and 
probably the most so in the Moslem world. The lofty 



MOSK OF MOHAMMED ALL 65 

walls surround a rectangular court, one side of which 
opens by a grand arch into an immense alcove, in the 
rear of which is the inclosed chamber around the tomb of 
the Sultan Hassan, who was murdered and buried here. 
The guide shows the traveler the blood stains on the 
pavement here, and says something unintelligible about 
its being the blood of Mamelukes murdered by the sul- 
tan ; but I am inclined to think the fact is that the Mam- 
eluke blood is of the times of Mohammed Ali. 

On the tomb lies, as is the custom, a copy of the Koran 
in a strong box, and sundry old coverings of silk, that 
were once heavy and gorgeous. The days are past 
when any one lived to cover the Sultan Hassan with 
cashmere. 

Immediately above the mosk, on the end of a pro- 
jecting spur of the Mokattam hills, stands the citadel of 
Cairo, a small city in itself. The vast extent of the walls 
must inclose ten or fifteen acres of ground, in which are 
mosks, palaces, and government-houses. 

High over all towers the white mosk of Mohammed 
Ali, built of unjiolished alabaster, from the quarries at 
Tel el Amarna. Within the gorgeous building, which 
can not be even approached except by first putting off 
the shoes, the old viceroy lies quiet in a corner untroubled 
by visions of Mamelukes. He sleeps on the very spot 
that he once flooded with red blood, when he annihilated 
that race which had so long ruled Egypt. 

Standing by his tomb, I heard a story of his later years 
that I have not seen printed. Whosoever has read that 
story of the slaughter of the Mamelukes by Mohammed 
Ali, has observed, that in whatever volume it occurs, it 
invariably closes with the friendship that the viceroy 
always afterward had for Suleiman Aga, who escaped 
the massacre in the dress of an old woman. The viceroy 
professed to doubt the method of his escape. Suleiman 



66 COFFEE AND PISTOLS. 

tried the disguise on his master again, and successfully 
begged from him in the same costume. 

The alleged affection of the viceroy was not uniform, 
however. Pie hated a Mameluke, and not even Sulei- 
man escaped his hatred. 

One morning as they sat cozily together as of old, Sul- 
eiman saw something that disturbed his quiet of soul, 
either in the face of his master or in the cup before him. 

" Why don't you drink your coffee ?" said the old 
viceroy. 

*' Do you wish me to drink it ?" 

" Certainly. Drink it, man — drink." 

The Mameluke tucked back the voluminous folds of his 
dress, and exhibited to the viceroy the gold handles of a 
half dozen jjistols, on one of which he laid his finger, 
while his eye S23arkled silently all that he would have 
said. 

" ' It is well to die in good company,' saitli the tra- 
dition ; shall I drink ?" 

There was no one near to seize him. It was literally a 
case of life and death. The wily monarch saw that he 
was caught. 

" Tush ! nonsense, Suleiman ! don't make a fool of 
yourself. If you don't like your coffee, here, I'll pour it 
behind the cushion ;" and he did so. Then they sent for 
the Koran, and laid it down between them, and swore 
good faith each to the other across it. After that Sul- 
eiman lived to see his master buried in his great mosk 
standing on the spot once red with the blood of his 
slaughtered friends. 

Another day's ride brought us to the southernmost 
gate of the city ; and thence we pushed on to the tombs 
of the family of Mohammed Ali, which are not far south- 
west of Cairo, in the sandy plain between it and old 
Cairo or Fostat. Here the great viceroy built a mosk 



THE GREAT DEAD. 07 

for a burial-2:)lace, and before he died saw many of his 
vaHant children laid there ; but himself sleeps elsewhere, 
in the great mosk within the citadel. 

Here Abbas and Toossoon, and the great Ibrahim are 
buried. The tomb of the latter is a most superb sepul- 
chral monument ; and probably, with the solitary excep- 
tion of that of Napoleon, it is the most splendid in the 
world. It is a monumental structure of marble, over 
which a rich mazarine blue enamel is laid, covering the 
entire monument. This is broken by the various inscrip- 
tions, which are in relief, sharply cut from the marble, in 
all the styles of character known to the Arabic, and all 
gilded. The effect is rich and dazzling. 

Here and there, in the mosk, men were praying and 
reading aloud from the Koran, but none seemed disturbed 
by our entrance. It was with no common emotion that 
I found myself standing by the tomb of the man whom 
history will consider as the rival of Napoleon among the 
great warriors of the past seventy years. From it I 
walked a little distance across the hot sand to the erave 
of Murad Bey, the rival of Le Beau Sabreur himself His 
tomb is in a sort of inclosed grave-yard, in the dry sand, 
covered with a rude stone structure that will not outlast 
this century. If a voice could be found that had power 
to open these graves and show these dead, as they lie 
with their hands under their cheeks, and their faces 
toward the Prophet's tomb, what a scene would the dead 
of Egypt present ! What mighty califs of the old lines, 
what fierce soldiers of later days, with closed lips, and 
sightless eyes, and shrunken features— all with their thin 
faces toward Mecca ! 

Every one has read of the beautiful and airy structures 
east of Cairo, known as the tombs of the Mameluke sul- 
tans. Some one has spoken of them as exhalations from 
the sand. They are in sadly ruinous condition now, 



68 inshallah! 

chiefly suiTOunded by mud huts, and their doorways 
thronged by begging fellaheen and naked children. They 
were our favorite resorts in the afternoons, when we had 
nowhere else to ride to, and thither, going out of the 
Bab el Nasr, the gate of victory, we would ride slowly 
and watch the changing lights on their graceful minarets 
as the sun w^ent down behind the pyramids. 

Such, from day to day, was our employment in Cairo. 

Think of looking up your banker at the bottom of a 
street four feet wide and four hundred long, or of buying 
a coat over a chibouk and a cup of coffee ! 

The bazaars of Cairo have been frequently described. 
The streets are a little wider Avhere the shops abound, 
and are usually roofed over, admitting sunshine by win- 
dows in the matting or close roof, only at mid-day. Bus- 
iness hours are from about eleven to three. No shop is 
open longer in the principal bazaars. I have more than 
once found a merchant closing his shop and have been 
refused an article I wished to purchase. 

" Come to-morrow. I am going home now." 

" But I shall not be here to-morrow." 

" Inshallah !" and he looked up and departed. 

At mid-day the bazaars are crowded, jammed, with 
passers-by or purchasers, women with vailed faces, and 
donkeys loaded with "water-skins, Turks, Bedouins, camels, 
dromedaries, and horses, all mingled together, for side- 
Avalk or pavement there is none, and it is therefore at the 
risk of constant pressure against the filthiest specimens 
of humanity, and constant collisions with nests of fleas 
and lice, that one passes through the narrow streets. 

I remember w^ell the purchase of a common traveling 
dress which Miriam effected, and which Avill serve to 
illustrate the Cairene and Eastern style of business. We 
went to the silk-merchants in the wealthiest bazaar of 
Cairo. One and another showed his small stock of goods, 



SHOPPIN G. 69 

but it was with difficulty that Miriam hit on such as 
suited her. When this was found, commenced the busi- 
ness of determining tlie price. The shop of the Turkish 
merchant is but a small cupboard. The fi-ont is invaria- 
bly about the size of an ordinary shop-window in Amer- 
ica, say six feet wide by eight high. The floor of the 
shop is elevated two feet above the street, and on a car- 
pet in the middle of the floor sits the merchant. His 
shop is so small that every shelf is within reach of his 
hands. Of these shojDS there are thousands in Cairo, and 
whatever the business, the shop is of the same descrip- 
tion. 

Miriam sat on the right hand of the merchant, with her 
feet in the street over the front of the shop ; I on his left. 
The silk goods lay piled on the carpet between us, the 
pieces she had selected being uppermost. The first step 
toward price was a cup of coflee and a pi^^e. She took 
cofl*ee ; I smoked quietly a few minutes, and the Turk 
smoked as calmly and coolly as if there was no silk on 
earth, and he was dreaming of heaven. For some min- 
utes the silence was unbroken, Avhile he looked at the op- 
posite side of the street, and we blew a tremendous cloud 
of smoke. At leno;th I broke the silence. 

" How much ?" 

He smoked calmly awhile, sent the cloud slowly up, 
and the Avords came from his lips as gently as the smoke 
itself. 

" Three hundred and seventy-five piastres." 

"I will give you one hundred and fifty." 

" It cost me more money than twice that." 

" It is not worth any more." 

"It is very beautiful. I sold one like it yesterday for 
three hundred and eighty." 

"I will not give it." 

Five minutes of smoke and silence. Miriam most de- 



SHOPPING. 



cidedly impatient, and yet full of fun at this novel mode 
of buying a dress, A fresh pipe and a fresh start. I 
asked him the least he would take. It was three hun- 
dred. I laid down the pi]3e, sighed heavily, and walked 
away down the bazaar toward the donkey-boys. He fol- 
lowed us out and down the street, calmly and quietly as- 
suring us that he was honorable in his statements, and 
offering a reduction of ten piastres more. I offered him 
two hundred. He exclaimed in despair and retired. 

Having made one or two other purchases, we returned 
to the charge. He had spread his praying carpet, and 
was kneeling in his shop engaged in liis devotions. A 
dozen other Mussulmans were in sight, doing as he. It 
was the hour when the voice of the muezzin called to 
prayer, and though in the din and bustle of the crowded 
bazaar I had not heard it, yet on the ears of these sincere 
worshipers it had fallen from the minaret of Kalaoon, and 
they obeyed the summons. 

We waited till he had finished, and then resumed our 
seats and negotiations, which w^ere finally terminated by 
our coming together on an intermediate point, and the 
sale being closed, we mounted our donkeys and rode 
homeward. This was but the first of a dozen similar 
negotiations, and is a fair specimen of the Cairene manner 
of doing business. 

But let no one therefore imagine that my friend Sulei- 
man Effendi is not as respectable a merchant as any man 
on 'change in Gotham, or because he smokes a pipe and 
not a cigar think him either low in his tastes or suscepti- 
ble of ignoble influences. Suleiman is a merchant-prince, 
and his Latakea is of irreproachable fragrance. 



6. 



Jhe Foot f)Hr)f^ .of i\]e ^^fH^i^ei)^. 

We had not yet decided on a dragoman for the Nile. 
Abrams, our Maltese servant, had accepted an oiFer from 
some gentlemen, and was j^i'eparing to go up the river 
with them. Meantime we had for a daily attendant and 
guide a stately-looking Arab, Hajji Ismael, by name, 
whose chief virtue consisted in his splendid outfit. Every 
morning he made his appearance in a new suit from head 
to foot, now flashing in silk and now dignified in broad- 
cloth. The fellow must have worn some hundred pounds' 
worth of clothing, but failing thereby to impress us with 
a sense of his desirableness as a permanent dragoman, he 
gave up in despair, having at last been reduced to appear 
twice in the same shoes, although in all other respects 
his change was as complete as usual. 

Marshalled by Hajji Ismael, Hajji (pilgrim) by virtue 
of having visited the Prophet's tomb at Medina and the 
holy Kaaba at Mecca, we penetrated all manner of places 
and saw all manner of sights. 

Cairo in itself possesses no interest by reason of any 
great antiquity. It does not stand on ground that is hal- 
lowed by any ancient name, story, or ruins. The found- 
ing of Cairo, known formerly as Musr-el-Kahira, Avas in 
the year 969, but the city received its greatest embellish- 
ments, and became most powerful and wealthy, under the 



72 TOPOGRAPHY. 

reign of Yusef Salah-e'deen, known to all readers of tlie 
crusades. 

Ancient Memphis stood on the west side of the IN^ile, 
and some four to eight miles higher up than Boulak. 
Cairo stands on the desert edge, its eastern gates opening 
on the sand, and its western on the rich fields of sugar- 
cane and groves of palms and acacia, which, in a belt two 
miles wide, separate the city from the river. On the river 
edge, stretching a mile and a half north and south, is 
Boulak, from which two broad avenues run up to the 
city. At the southern part of Boulak commences a row 
of palaces on the bank of the river, which is here divided 
on two sides of the island of Rhoda, and these continue in 
unbroken succession two miles soutliAvard, to the head of 
Rhoda, where, on the mainland, is Old Cairo^ or Fostat. 
This occupies the site of the Roman station Babylon^ and 
in its neighborhood are certain ancient Christian churches, 
of which I shall speak hereafter. Prior to Roman times 
the cities in this part of Egypt were Memphis, on the 
west bank, and Heliopolis, on the east, the latter lying six 
miles north of the site of Cairo, on the desert edge. 

Once for all, let me say to those few who do not al- 
ready know it, that Egypt south of the Delta (which 
commences about twenty miles north of Cairo) is on an 
average four miles wide. The hills on the two sides of 
the river are about that distance apart, sometimes ap- 
proaching on one side to the very river's edge, and some- 
times on the other. Between the bases of these hills the 
land is for the most part a dead water level, annually 
covered by the rising Nile. The villages are usually 
built at the foot of the mountains. Where otherwise, 
they are on artificial mounds in the plain, or on the ruins 
of ancient temples. These hills are rocky cliffs, utterly 
destitute of vegetation. Yellow sand pours down over 
them from the Arabian and the Libyan deserts, and some- 



HAJJl ISMAEL. 73 

times encroaches on the cultivated land. The hills on 
the eastern side of the Nile, after following the course 
of the river as far as to Can-o, send a single low spur into 
the city, on the point of which is the citadel, and then 
sweep oif to the eastward and disappear. From Cairo 
eastward, the desert reaches in general on a level to 
Suez, and north of this Egypt grows broader, the Nile 
separating into many streams, and rain not being so un- 
frequent. 

The Nile being now high, for it was yet early in Octo- 
ber, the country was still overflowed, and it was impos- 
sible to arrange for a visit to the pyramids without tak- 
ing tents and remaining there over night. The ladies 
were not yet accustomed to hardshij), and we were un- 
willing to break into nomadic life thus suddenly. 

Heliopolis was almost as difficult of access, except by a 
route along the desert edge, which was some miles longei- 
than the direct route by Matareeyeh. Nevertheless, we 
tried it one pleasant morning with success. 

Hajji Ismael was out in a new dress. It was his 
eighth morning, I think, and his eighth dress. The 
donkey-boys were rejoicing in the prospect of a good 
day, for a long expedition always made necessary a 
luncheon, which they were very certain of sharing. I 
can not too highly commend Mr. Williams's Indian Hotel 
to travelers ; though small, it is by far the best and most 
comfortable in Egypt, and the stranger will find himself 
there most perfectly at home. They always provided us 
with a capital luncheon when we went away for a day's 
ride, and so to-day. 

We rattled along the Ezbekieh and through innum- 
erable narrow streets, and at last out of a gate on the 
north side of the city, and across the country toward the 
ancient city of On. 

Our route lay just within the edge of cultivated land ; 

4 



V4 FIG-TREE OP JOSEPH AND MARY. 

we should have done better to keep out on the sand of 
the desert, for we found ourselves at length in a field 
from which there was no dry outlet but on the back 
track. The appearance of the water was not very deej), 
and we ventured in. But we had not calculated for the 
mud underneath. Nearly a fourth of a mile we advanced 
through the water, and then the mud deepened. Mir- 
iam's donkey slipped, and but for the boys who caught 
her, she would have been worse than drowned. They 
carried her on their shoulders across the rest of the flood, 
and we then continued our way, through all kinds of 
paths, wet and dry, mud and sand, sunny and shady, till 
we arrived at Matareeyeh and the fig-tree of Joseph and 
Mary. 

The tradition that the Saviour rested under this tree is 
very ancient, but of how early a date it is impossible to 
say. The Copts and Armenians, I believe, both adopt it. 
It stands in a fenced garden, and the well of water near 
it is said to be a fountain that burst out to satisfy the 
Virgin's thirst. 

Passing this, we saw at some distance from us, rising 
over the dense mass of trees and shrubs that surrounded 
it, the solitary obelisk of Heliopolis. Just before reach- 
ing it we passed three great pieces of stone, evidently 
parts of a gateway, on which we found the cartouche of 
Thothmes III. the Pharaoh of the Exodus. 

It was the first of the great antiquities of Egypt that I 
had seen, and I paused here with perhaps somewhat more 
of respect than I should give those stones now after five 
months among the mighty ruins of this oldest of coun- 
tries. But there is nevertheless a something about those 
stones which give them an interest that scarcely any 
others have. 

If, as we beUeve, Thothmes III. was the Pharaoh of the 
days of Moses, then this may well have been part of the 



H E L I O P O L I S . ,o 

gateway to his palace temple through which the great 
lawgiver passed and repassed, in the days of the captivity 
and deliverance of the children of Jacob. It was no idle 
fancy, strangely as it may strike the ear of one unaccus- 
tomed to the antiquity of Egypt. A few paces more 
brought us to the obelisk, the solitary memorial of the 
grandeur of the great city of the times of Joseph. 

This monument bears the name of Osirtasen, and the 
date of this monarch is probably not far from the time of 
Abraham. As I shall elsewhere speak of the chronology 
of Egypt, I shall not pause here to speak of the chrono- 
logical differences among Egyptian scholars. For our 
present purposes it is enough to believe that this magnifi- 
cent column stood here when Jacob blessed his children 
and departed, and when Joseph charged them to carry 
his bones into the Land of Promise. Around it then 
gathered the most splendid palaces of Egypt ; and here, 
perhaps, was held the court to which the old wanderer of 
Canaan came. But of that old glory nothing remains. 
The obelisk stands ten feet below the surface of the sur- 
rounding earth, in an excavation made to exhibit its base, 
and under the mounds that lie here and there about it 
are the buried ruins of the City of the Sun. We sat in 
the shadow of the obelisk and spread before us our lunch. 
It was of bread, figs, dates, pomegranates, and oranges, 
and each of these fruits was growing in profusion within 
twenty yards of us, as well as olives, custard apples, bamia, 
and melons of every kind. The obelisk stands in the 
centre of a garden of perhaps twenty acres of good land, 
and around this the desert rolls barren and hot. It would 
seem that the peculiar interest attached to this spot as 
the City of Joseph, as well as the chief seat of learning 
in later years, where Plato and the other great philoso- 
phers studied and taught, has been specially provided for 
in the luxuriance of the fruits and products of its soil : so 



70 ' AGRICULTURE. 

that, instead of the shining sand that covers Memphis 
and lies around the pyramids, we have the grove of the 
Academy to rest in while we listen to the voice of its 
great teacher. 

In the neighborhood of Heliopolis I had opportunity 
to see the method of cultivation adopted by the modern 
Egyptians. 

No land is under cultivation which is not reached by 
the Nile overflow, or by simple machines for raising water 
and pouring it on the soil. Rain being no dependence, 
irrigation is continued throughout the growing season. 
So soon as the Nile retires the surface of the ground 
bakes hard. This is broken up by the rude plow of an- 
cient and modern times, unchanged since the days of 
Sesostris, and the soil then planted and steadily watered 
till the fruit is ripe. 

Canals, large and small, intersect the country every- 
where. Let it be remembered that the arable land of 
Egypt is almost a perfect level, so that when the Nile 
rises to a certain height it flows over all the land in every 
direction, and canals continue the supply as the river falls. 
Some lands, rescued from the desert, are on a level a few 
feet higher, and others are not so low as to lie covered 
by the Nile in a year like this, Avlien it does not reach its 
full height. Every field, high or low, is intersected by 
little canals, made by heaping the dirt up and hollowing 
a trench in it, so that the field is divided, like a chess- 
board, into a number of small squares. These trenches 
are supplied with water by two processes. The larger 
trenches, which run several miles, are supplied by wheels 
at the Nile or in the canals, which are turned by cattle, 
and which raise an endless chain of earthen pots of water. 
A pump is unknown in Egypt. The smaller canals are 
supplied by a shadoofs which is arranged precisely like 
an old-fashioned well-pole in America, except that the 



Irrigation. 77 

swing is so short that the man holds the bucket almost 
constantly in his hand, and dips and em^^ties, dips and 
empties, all day long. Up the river the shadoof is used 
on the side of the Nile instead of the water-wheel ; and 
everywhere for the purpose of lifting water from one 
trench to another that will water a few acres of land that 
is higher in grade. 

A very simple contrivance lor the same purpose is often 
found in the fields. It is a basket, made of palm-leaves 
or some other stout substance, swung on four ropes, two 
in the hands of one man and two of another. The men 
sit on opposite sides of the stream or pool of water sup- 
plied from a canal or trench, and drop the basket into the 
water. Then they raise it rapidly, swinging it at the 
same time over the top of the higher trench into which 
they wish to lift the water, and at the same instant slack- 
en two of the ropes so as to allow the water to fall 
out. The rapidity and ease with which they continue 
this labor from morning till night is no less a source of 
surprise than the quantity of water they raise, keeping a 
steady stream running from their place of work. 

Oftentimes a piece of land is rescued from the desert 
and made into a beautiful garden. Almost as often the 
desert covers over a garden and reclaims it for part of 
its empire of desolation. Thus at Heliopolis it would ap- 
pear that the basin, which may be formed by the ruined 
wall of an ancient temple, over which the sand has heaped 
itself up, suggested to some one the idea of bringing the 
Nile into it and watering the sand. With the Nile came 
alluvial deposit, and with the deposit fruitfulness — such 
fruitfulness as we seldom see even on our western prai- 
ries. In this small farm, around the old stone, grows 
every variety of eastern fruit. Oranges swing in clusters 
against its very sides, and pomegranates, and figs, and 
olives, are all found in the grounds, while vines and vege- 



18 DESERT PARTRIDGES. 

tables abound. A mud village stands on the edge of the 
desert, two or three hundred yards from the obelisk, and 
is the modern successor of the great On. Alas ! for the 
difference. A crowd of women and children followed us 
through the narrow winding street, shouting for money, 
until we were fairly out of their district, and they re- 
garded us as within the '* right of begging" of the next 
village. 

On the way home, I found good shooting along the 
edge of the desert. I had my gun with me, and having 
missed a shot at a flock of ibis, I loaded my barrels more 
carefully, and had afterward better success. It is a cu- 
rious fact, that the air of Egypt is so very light and clear 
that the same quantity of gunpow^der carries shot and 
ball much further than elsewhere, and the load of a gun 
is to be reduced nearly one-third for correct shooting. 
This I found instantly by the peculiar ring of the barrels 
on firing, and I learned afterward that such is the case in 
Egypt. 

Desert partridges, so called, abound in this neighbor- 
hood. They have but one characteristic which should 
entitle them to be called partridges. That is the feath- 
ered legs. In other respects they are more like a large 
pigeon in shape, and their color is of a nondescript, 
desert-sand sort of a color, not marked regularly in any 
specimens that I have seen. I had two or three shots at 
them, and had some half dozen to bring home for dinner. 
Add to these a large hawk, and an eagle, as the boys 
called it, but in fact a vulture, measuring about four feet 
from tip to tip, and you have the contents of my game- 
bag, which, by-the-by, was the loose bosom of the shirt 
of one of the boys, which was our constant receptacle for 
articles to be carried. 

Returning homeward, we diverged somewhat from the 
direct path, and crossed the hills to look again at the 



TOMBS OF THE MAMELUKE SULTANS. 



79 



tombs of the Mameluke sultans. Sadly ruinous, and as 
sadly beautiful, they seemed in the sunset light like rep- 
resentatives of the religion of Mohammed, sprung glori- 
ously from the desert, and fast falling again into the 
wastes of sand. The most beautiful of these, that of the 
sultan, Ghait Bey, who died in 1496, is worthy of pres- 
ervation, as the most exquisite specimen of eastern ar- 
chitecture which the East can produce. Within the 
mosk which is attached to the tomb, and under the 
dome, stands a block of black stone, bearing the impress 
of a human foot, said to be the foot of the Prophet. 
Another stone in the same mosk bears the perfect im- 
pression of two feet, also attributed to the same great 
origin, but I think the two footprints rather stagger the 
faith of the Mussulmans. They were very earnest in 
pressing their kisses on the single footprint, but they 
only glanced at the other stone, although its casing of 
silver was as rich, and its impressions were quite as deep. 
We entered the city by the Bab el Nasr, the gate of 
victory. 




^Ir^ijelr^ ^0^ Coffee. 

I HAVE met all sorts of derweeshes (I am particular in 
spelling this word as it is pronounced) in the East, and 
have been alternately blessed and cursed by an infinite 
number. There was one fellow in Cairo who cursed me 
regularly. If there is any virtue in his anathemas my 
case is hopeless. I met him daily, he was daily imper- 
tinent in his demands, thrust his wooden plate, smelling 
vilely, under my nose, utterly heedless of my refined sen- 
sibility of nerve in that region, and stopped my donkey 
with new impudence every successive day. As soon 
as I picked up enough Arabic for the purpose I cursed 
him back, and, after that, almost any pleasant day, you 
might have seen a funny group at the corner of the 
Mouski, by the police ofiice. He cursed by Mohammed, 
and I by St. Simeon Stylites; he invoked Allah, and I 
hurled at him the anger of Juggernaut. He never 
dreamed of half the gods and prophets that I showered 
on his unlucky head, and, at last, I converted him. That 
is to say he ceased cursing and began to question, and 
then I had him. 

We sat down together on a mat, under the shade of 
one of the great lebbek trees, on the east side of the 
Ezbekieh (which, be it known, is a vast open square, 
once a lake, now filled up, and luxuriant with all manner 



PUNCH AND JUDY. 81 

of trees and herbs). A curious crowd gathered around 
us, while I informed him of some of the deities I had in- 
voked, their history and powers, and thereby endeavored 
to enUghten him in the general subject of natural religion 
as a groundwork to true revelation. 

I think I got more out of him than he from me, for I 
learned somewhat about derweeshes. 

A derweesh is a man who has vowed to lead a relig- 
ious life. This may be esteemed a general definition. 
There are many classes of them. A sort of freemasonry 
exists among each of these, but no man because a der- 
weesh is therefore obliged to renounce his business. I 
know of nothing to prevent the sultan himself becoming 
one, and retaining his throne. Many classes of them pro- 
fess to perform miracles, thrusting swords through their 
bodies, pins through their cheeks, spikes into their eyes, 
and all this without leaving wounds. The most squalid 
Avretches in the streets of an eastern city are derweeshes, 
naked, with the exception of a piece of sheepskin around 
the loins, who go about begging, or lie in stupid inanity 
in the crowded markets. 

My new acquaintance invited me to visit the college 
to which he belonged, but this was out of my power 
then. We parted pleasantly, and after that, he looked 
calmly at me, as a man whose prodigious learning he was 
bound to respect, and I paid him liberally for his silent 
flattery. 

As we separated, I observed a Punch and Judy tent 

near by, and, paying five paras (one cent), went in. The 

scene was undeniably the most ludicrous I ever saw at a 

theatrical performance, Neapolitan or of a higher grade.. 

Twenty Egyptians, old and young, sat on the ground, 

with large open eyes fixed on the puppets. Punch beat 

Judy, and shouted bad Arabic, and Judy screamed in 

the most horrible of dialects. But it was all Hebrew to 

4* 



82 ADONKEYDERWEESH. 

these poor devils. They enjoyed it. It was a sort of 
miracle of wonderment ; but as to fun — that, never en- 
tered their heads : and when it was over, they retired as 
solemnly as if they had heard preaching in a mosk. 

Voluntary religious meetings, gotten up by the der- 
weeshes, are of hourly occurrence in the streets and 
coffee shops. A few of them will erect a pole, with 
flaunting silk flags on it, and begin to surround it with a 
monotonous dance or motion of the body. Volunteers 
enter, and join the increasing circle, until it not infre- 
quently numbers from fifty to a hundred persons. 

As we were returning one afternoon from the citadel, 
and entered the Ezbekieh square, near the Oriental Hotel, 
I caught sight of one of these assemblies surrounding a 
pole, and commencing their devotional service of dancing 
and singing. We paused to see them, and sat on our 
donkeys outside of the ring, in which some fifty men, 
dressed in various costumes, were swinging their heads 
and bodies from side to side, and giving utterance, at 
each jerk, to a hoarse guttural exclamation. This 
movement became very rapid. Not infrequently one of 
them would cry out "'Allah!" in a voice of thunder. 
They then formed two rings, those in the inner facing 
those in the outer, and swinging toward each other, they 
shouted the same strange sound at each swing. Their 
faces became convulsed ; they foamed at the mouth, they 
screamed, tossed their hair, embraced each other, and 
called on God with the same hoarse cry. 

We were deeply impressed with the scene, We had 
gone as closely up to the outside of the ring as we could 
ride, and the crowd of spectators had made way for us, 
so that we were directly behind the outer ring, and our 
donkeys' heads were close to the performers, when sud- 
denly — imagine our horror !— Miriam's donkey, being 
evidently taken with the scene and affected by it, elo^ 



MOSKOFAMER. 83 

vated his head and nose between the heads of two of the 
derweeshes — one an old man with flowing gray hair and 
beard, the other a young man with long dark locks — and 
gave utterance to such a cry as none but an Egyptian 
donkey can imitate. It was like the blast of a hundred 
cracked trumpets or fish-horns. Never were men so 
frightened as were the two derweeshes. They nearly fell 
into the ring with terror, Mohammed, the boy, in an 
agony of despair, sprang to his donkey's head and seized 
his jaws with both hands. Vain endeavor ! He but in- 
terrupted the terrific sound, and made it tenfold worse 
as it escaped from second to second, and at length he 
gave it up and fell to the ground. It was too much for 
Mussulman gravity. They looked at us furiously at first, 
but the next instant a universal scream of laughter broke 
from the surrounding crowd, and we rode off in the midst 
of it. Even Mohammed Olan, superstitious Arab that he 
was (for he told me that very day that he had seen an 
Efrite the night before) enjoyed the fun of the thing, and 
muttered to his mistress as he ran by her side, " He good 
Mussulman donkey." 

Our Friday is the Moslem seventh day of rest, or of 
special devotion. We selected one Friday to visit the 
chief college of the derweeshes on the Nile, where we 
could see the whirling, and hear the howling. Leaving 
the hotel at an early hour in the morning, provided with 
luncheon in case of necessity, we went first to Old Cairo, 
and visited the Mosk of Amer, which is the most 
ancient of the buildings of the modern Egyptians. It 
was erected about a.d. 860, and there is a tradition con- 
nected with it, and firmly relied on by the Moslems, 
that when it falls the crescent will wane. If it be true, 
the fall of the Moslems can not be far distant. Al- 
ready the great walls have fallen in, and lie in crumbling 
heaps within the sacred inclosure ; and splendid columns 



84 N I I. O M E T E K . 

and gorgeous capitals are here and there in the sand and 
dust, miserable emblems of the fading glory of the power 
that has so long controlled the East. Near the entrance 
are two marble columns of somcAvhat amusing history. 
They stand close together on the same pedestal ; and, in 
former times, when the mosk was in its glory, these 
two pillars Avere the shibboleth of the faith. If a man 
could pass between them he might hope to pass the gates 
of Paradise. If he were too great in body — if the good 
things of the world had so increased his rotundity that 
he might not squeeze his mortal parts through the narrow 
passage — then it was very certain that his immortal soul 
could never hope to see the houries. Alas ! for the decay 
of the mosk and the trembling of the old faith. There 
was no one of us that could not readily pass between the 
pillars, though they stand firmly as ever, and do not seem 
worn by the myriads who have tried themselves here. I 
did stick at first. I confess that the flesh-pots of Egypt 
have added to my usually respectable size so much that 
my vest buttons caught on the inner post, and for a 
moment I thought my anti-Mohammedanism settled. 
But doubtless these later years of Frank innovations have 
tended to relax the strictness of the faith, for I went 
through without difiiculty after one vigorous attempt, 
and the others followed me. 

The service, if I may so call it — the Zikr — at the der- 
weesh mosk Avas to commence at one o'clock. We had 
an hour before us, and so we took a boat at the ferry 
from Old Cairo to Ghizeh, and w^ent over to the island of 
Rhoda to see the Nilometer. 

It is on the upper end of the island, adjoining the 
palace of Hassan Pacha, and consists of a graduated stone 
pillar in the centre of an open well. Its age has been a 
subject of much discussion ; but no one, I believe, thinks 
of placing it before Mohammedan times. 



T H E N I L E . 85 

We saw but little of it, for the Nile was up to within 
three inches of the tojD. But here, on the upper end of 
Rhoda, for the first time, we saw the Nile, the great 
river, and our enthusiasm was now at the fullest. We 
stood on the marble portico of the palace facing up the 
stream, which is divided here, and saw the lordly river 
come down in all its majesty, and roll its waves to either 
side of us, and away to the great sea. Here it was the 
Nile. No dream, no half river, no small stream of dash- 
ing water, but that great river of which we had read, 
thought, and dreamed ; the river on which princes in 
long-forgotten years had floated j^alaces and temples from 
far up, down to their present abode ; the river Avhich 
Abraham saw, and over which Moses stretched out his 
arm in vengeance ; where the golden barge of Cleoj)atra 
swept with perfiuned breezes, and when, but a few years 
later, she was dead and her magnificence gone, the feeble 
footsteps of the Son of God, in infancy on earth, hallowed 
the banks that the idolatry of thousands of years had 
cursed ; the river of which Homer sang, and Isaiah pro- 
phesied, and in whose dark waters fell the tears of the 
weeping Jeremiah ; the river of which all poets wrote, 
all philosophers taught, all learning, all science, all art 
spoke for centuries. The waters at our feet, murmuring, 
dashing, brawling against the foundation of the palace, 
come by the stately front of Abou Simbal, had loitered 
before the ruins of Philffi, had dashed over the cataracts 
and danced in the starlight by Luxor and Karnak. From 
what remote glens of Africa, from what Ethiopian plains 
they rose, we did not now pause to think, but having 
looked long and earnestly up the broad reach of the 
river, we turned into the palace, and after pipes and 
cofiee, the universal gift of hospitality here, we returned 
to our boat. 

We drifted slowly down the river by the spot where 



86 COFFEE AND PRAYERS. 

tradition says that Moses was hid in the rushes, to the 
village of the derweeshes, that stands on the bank, among 
the palaces that stretch from Boulak to Old Cairo. 

They received us with the utmost politeness. There 
was no bigoted hatred of Christians visible. On the con 
trary, they gave us seats in the cool court-yard, under 
the trees, and brought us coffee, and talked as pleasantly 
as heart could desire. Fifty wild looking men stood 
around us, gazing mdeed somewhat curiously at our 
costume, but not in the least offended at our visit ; and 
when the hour for commencing worshi23 arrived, they 
brought us coffee again, and then conducted us into their 
mosk, where we took our seats on the matting at the 
western side. About eighty men stood in a semicircle, 
Avith their faces to the south-east, the centre of the circle 
being the arched niche which is always left in a mosk 
on the side toward Mecca, by way of guiding the prayers 
of the faithful in that direction. Musical instruments 
hung on the wall, and some of the worshipers used them, 
taking down one and putting up another from time to 
time. The service consisted in swinging backward and 
forward in time with the leader, a noble-looking man, 
who walked around the inner side of the circle, and utter- 
ing at each swing a violent groan, or rather a deep, 
strong sob. For half an hour this motion was steady ; 
then it became more rapid. They swung the body for- 
ward, leaning down until their hair swept the floor in 
front, and threw themselves backward with a sudden, 
swift bend until it again touched the floor behind them. 
The velocity of this motion may be guessed at from the 
fact, that for the space of more than an hour the hair 
never rested or fell on the head, but continually described 
a larger circle than the head in this motion. 

In the mean time a man dressed in a long white hooped 
drfiss, tight at the waist, and some twenty feet in circum- 



A L L A H ! A L L A li ! 87 

ference at the bottom of the skirt, slid into the centre of 
the half circle, and commenced a slow revolution, appar- 
ently as gentle and easy as if he stood on a wheel tm-ned 
by machinery. After a minute, during which he swung 
out his skirts and started fairly, his speed increased. His 
hands were at first on his breast, then one on each side 
of his head ; and w^hen the full speed was attained, they 
were stretched out horizontally, the right hand on his 
right side, with the palm turned up, and the left hand on 
its side, with the palm down. For twenty-four minutes, 
without pause, rest, or change of speed, he continued to 
whirl around like a top. The velocity was exactly fifty- 
five revolutions to the minute. I timed it frequently, and 
was astonished at the regularity. This was not a long 
performance. It is oftentimes an hour, and even two or 
three hours, in duration. After this man retired, another 
took his place, and all the time the excitement in the 
outer circle was increasing. Some shouted, some how^led 
out the name of God. " Allah ! Allah !" rang in the dome 
of the mosk from eighty voices ; and now all the mu- 
sical instruments, including a dozen large and small 
drums, added to the terrible noise. 

Suddenly the noble-looking man, the leader of the 
revel, turned and faced the city of the prophet, and in- 
stantly all was silent. Some fell on the pavement in con- 
vulsions, others stood trembling from head to foot, evi- 
dently past all self-control, while others pounded their 
heads on the stones and gnashed their teeth. Those who 
were in fits — for it was nothing else — of epilepsy, were 
taken care of by attendants, who also advanced to those 
who were still standing, and, placing their arms around 
them, bent them gently down to their knees, and left 
them so. It was a scene not a little touching, after the 
terrible confusion, to see those silent frames bowed down 



88 AMERICAN M I S S I O N A R I E « . 

before their God in the dim mosk. We came away and 
left them tliere. 

All this seems to the reader a story of incredible fanati- 
cism. We think so of such stories when the scene is laid 
in remote countries ; but I can not forbear remarking, 
that the whole scene was startlingly like to many, very 
many, that I have seen in America, in religious assem- 
blies, even to the minutest particulars. The excitement, 
the throwing of the head backward and forward, foaming 
at the mouth; the loud shouts— " O Lord!" "God!" 
"God help us!" and the like; the fain tin gs ; the epi- 
lepsy ; every thing was famihar to us, and will be so to 
many who read this. It is certainly a remarkable fact, 
and it is a fact, that in a zikr of the howling derweeshes 
of Cairo I saw a scene more like familiar scenes in Amer- 
ica than any other that I saw in Egypt. 

I can not close this chaj^ter without contrasting this 
with another worship that we joined in frequently in the 
city of Salah-e'deen. 

The American mission, by what societies sustained I do 
not know, is doing its work silently, but successfully, in 
the city. In the cholera season, when all others, includ- 
ing the English missionary, fled in dismay, these young 
men, and their young wives, remained at their posts, 
buried the dead, and consoled, as well as they were able, 
the living, winning a position that they will never lose. 
The English residents presented them with a handsome 
testimonial of their gratitude ; and I could wish some 
more enduring record of their bravery than these pages. 

Sometimes a half dozen, sometimes ten persons, always 
more or less, assembled on Sunday afternoon in the 
rooms of Rev. Mr. Martin ; and here we worshiped God 
in the old home fashion, with the Psalms of David to 
sing; and hence I am afraid that I must confess my 
thoughts oftener than heavenward went wandering back 



A WHIRLING DERWEESH. 89 

to the old meeting-house in the up-country, and the be- 
loved voices that sang the Psalms there in the long-gone 
years, and that sing them now with David in the upper 
country. 




8. 

Days, weeks, and months, go dreamily along in this 
old land, and the evenings and nights have holier star- 
light and profounder depths of beauty than in any other 
country that my feet have wandered through. 

For the day-time, whether in the street among the 
dark-browed, liquid-eyed sons of Ishmael, or wandering 
over the hills around the city, and surveying the proud 
sites of old glories, life was like a long dream. 

Shall I ever forget that first evening after our arrival, 
when Miriam and I, far wanderers together through life, 
and to be yet farther wanderers together on hills of Holy 
Land, stood on a mound to the northward of the city, 
one of those inexplicable mounds of broken pottery, fifty, 
a hundred feet high, and broken earthenware all of it, 
which surround Cairo on the north and east, and looked 
at the setting sun beyond the desert ? A cool north wind 
was blowing freshly. The donkeys stood facing it, their 
sharp ears erect. The boys lay on the sand chattering in 
Arabic to each other. The dragoman, in full and flowing 
dress, a short distance in the rear, stood in that attitude 
of grace that no one but an Oriental can hope to attain 
to. We four, the only Americans in all the land of Egypt 
who do not call this their home, stood close together, 
watching the sun go down the western sky. It was high 



M O S K O F T O O L O O N . 91 

iiuoii at home. New York was bustling, shouting, noisy 
New York ; and in oiu- homes — how much we would have 
given to know of them at that instant — who can tell us 
of the beloved ones there ? The moon came out from the 
sky, silver as never moon was silver to our eyes before. 
The muezzin calls had ceased, and the faithful had ceased 
to pray. As the night deepened, object after object dis- 
appeared, and only Cairo the Blessed was before us, shin- 
ing in the soft light ; but away on the horizon, standing 
on the Libyan desert edge, calm, silent, solemn, and aw- 
ful, we still saw the majesty of the pyramids. 

I was oif, one morning, among the mosks of Cairo. 
We directed our way first to the Mosk of Tooloon, which 
is the oldest in the modern city. 

This is said to be the precise copy in miniature of the 
great mosk at Mecca, and it is certainly the most impos- 
ing of the Mohammedan structures of Cairo. Its very 
age makes it the more stately, though it is now desecrated 
into a poor-house. It surrounds a square, each side of 
which is perhaps four or six hundred feet long, and is 
built with pointed arches, being the earliest known speci- 
men of the style. Its date is about a. d. 880, and its 
huge columns stand as fi^'mly as they stood a thousand 
years ago. The minaret, on the western side of the 
court, is constructed somewhat singularly, having a wind- 
ing stairway outside the tower. Whereof the tradition 
is, that the founder, being reproached by his Grand 
Vizier for wasting his time in twisting a piece of paper, 
replied that he was planning a minaret to his new mosk 
up which he might ride on horseback; and so it was 
made. But it is not very similar, for the staircase makes 
but one turn around the tower. 

Nevertheless, it is profoundly interesting to stand in a 
spot where, daily, for a thousand years, the prayers of 
men have been offered up ; where the stones are worn 



92 SHAPES AND SHADOWS. 

with the knees of sincere if mistaken believers ; where 
there has never been a day, since the ninth century, when 
the voice of the muezzin was not heard across the court 
and through the shadowy arches, uttering that simple 
and sublime passage that has been so often uttered above 
this city, and all the East, that one might think the air 
would sou.nd it with its own morning winds forever after : 
*•' God is great. There is no deity but God. Mohammed 
is God's apostle. Come to prayer, come to prayer ; prayer 
is better than sleep ; come to prayer. God is most great. 
There is no god but God." 

At noonday and at sunsetting the same chant has filled 
these arches with solemn melody. One can not stand and 
hear it now without feeling that the voice is the same 
voice that uttered it ten centuries ago, though the men 
through whose thin lips it escaped on the air are the dead 
dust of those centuries. Age is sublime. A creed, though 
false, is nevertheless magnificent if it be old ; and I can 
not look on these tottering w^alls, these upheaving pave- 
ments, these crumbling towers, without a melancholy re- 
gret stealing in along with other feelings, that this wor- 
ship, this creed, is approaching its end, and that the day 
is fast coming when Islam and the creed of the Prophet 
will be to men like the memories of Isis and Apis — shad- 
ows flitting around the ruins of old Egypt. In broad 
daylight, when eyes and intellects are wide awake, the 
shadows are as clouds dark with memories of crime and 
wrong ; shapes of hideous deeds, blackening the very 
name of humanity. 

But in night time and the moonlight, when we do not 
see these, there will be shapes like halos around the fallen 
minarets of Tooloon and Amer as around the obelisk of 
Heliopolis and the unchanging pyramids ; memories of 
simple but grand faith in the hearts of old men that wor- 
shiped God, and died in every year and month of all the 



EX GLISH E G YPT ? 98 

thousands that have shone upon these stones ; shadows 
that will forever haunt the places that are sanctified by 
man's holiest emotions — sincere and prayerful trust in 
God, though it were in a false god ; shadows that are 
changeful, but always there ; long shapes and forms cast 
on the walls by the altar-flames, that remain and appear, 
and flit here and there on pavement and wall, though 
altar-fires be long extinguished, and the wall lie in dust 
on the broken pavements of the temple. 

But is this so, and is the end approaching ? 

I asked myself the question in the city of Victory, 
seated at my open window in the night-time, the moon 
shining gloriously — a dazzling moon — my table drawn to 
the window, and the flame of my candle rising steadily, 
and without a flicker, in the profoundly silent air. Two 
hundred thousand people were lying around me, and I 
asked who and what they were, and w^hat part they 
formed in the grand sum of human valuation ? Literally 
nothing. They are not worth the counting among the 
races of men. They are the curse of one of the fairest 
lands on this earth's surface. 

I had been conversing that same day with intelligent 
Mussulmans, who not only expressed their belief, but 
added their anxious hope, that the advance of English 
power in the East would soon make Egypt an English 
possession. I heard this everywhere among them. 

If they knew any thing about it — and Turks ought to 
know more of it than Americans — they would see that it 
is their manifest destiny. England begins to see it, as 
before she has only wished it. 

I answered my question. Yes, the end is not far distant. 
The mosk of Amer, traditional metre of the duration of 
the faith, is falling. I saw with my own eyes a huge piece 
of its wall go crashing down into the dusty court, where 



94 M A. R K T H E P R O P H E C Y 



1 



the still sunshine fell on it as if it had been waiting for it ; 
and no one will ever disturb its ruin. 

Just before break of day, from the mosk of Mohammed 
Ali at the citadel the morning call to prayer sounds over 
the city. The Sultan Hassan, old Tooloon, and another 
and another take it up, and three hundred voices are filling 
the air with a rich, soft chant, that reaches the ear of the 
Mussulman in his profoundest slumber, and calls him up 
to pray. Does he obey ? There was a time when, at that 
call, the city of Salah-e'deen had no closed eye, no unbent 
knee in all its walls. But the Mussulman is changed now. 
He heard the call in his half drunken sleep, stuj^efied 
with hashish^ and he damned the muezzin, and turned 
over to deeper slumber. He heard it in his profound re- 
pose, after counting over the gains he had made by cheat- 
ing his neighbors, and he did not feel like praying. He 
heard it on the perfumed couch of his slave, and he forgot 
the prophet's in the present heaven. He heard it — yes, 
there were a few old men, who remember the glory of 
the Mamelukes ; who heard their fierce shouts when the 
Christian invaders met them at the jDyramids ; and who, 
wearied with long life, look now for youth and rest in 
heaven, and they, when they heard the call, obeyed it, 
and theirs were the only prayers w^asted on the dawning 
light in all of Cairo, and when they cease there will be 
none to pray. 

This is no fancy picture. Mark the prophecy. Our 
days may be few, but there are men living now who will 
see the crescent disappear from the valley of the Nile, 
and who will build their houses from the sacred stones of 
the mightiest mosks in Grand Cairo. The beginning of 
this end is visible already, but who can foresee what is to 
follow ? 




SHEIK HOUSSEIN IBN-EGID. 



9. 



Who that has read eastern travel books for the last 
half century has not heard the fame of the great Sheik 
of the Alavveen ? I remember when I was a boy that I 
sympathized deeply with some one, of whose robbery by 
the redoubted sheik I read a sorrowful history, and after 
that, in book after book, as I heard of this and that trav- 
eler driven away from Petra by this old man, or robbed 
by his extortions, I used to think it would be a pleasant 
mornino-'s walk to meet him and rid the desert of such an 

CD 

enemy of safe journeying. What a capital shot it would 
be at the robber sheik, with a cut rifle and a well-greased 
ball ! These boyish notions never left me, and I frequently 
caught myself wondering whether I should ever meet the 
sheik and fight him or fly him. 

I met him when I least expected it. 

As we were riding up the Mouski, Miriam and myself, 
on our way to the bazaars one afternoon, we were startled 
and arrested by an apparition that was not to be allowed 
to pass unnoticed. 

Seated on a splendid sorrel mare, whose quick roving 
eye was ill at ease in the street of the city, was an old 
man, whose face was the face of a king. His dress was 
rich and elegant, but such as we had not yet seen in 
Cairo. He wore no shoes, stockings, nor trowsers. The 

5 



98 ABEDOUINCOSTUME. 

dust of the desert was on his bare feet and ankles. Over 
a shh't of the richest brocade was worn a cloak of crimson 
cloth worked with gold, and over this a cloak of black, 
concealing all that was under it, except when it was ex- 
posed by accident. A cashmere sash was wound around 
his waist, binding the shirt only, in the folds of which 
gleamed pistols and knives more than I could count. His 
head was covered with a shawl of brown silk, the heaviest 
work of the looms of Damascus, and it was lield in its 
place by a woolen cord, heavy enough to hang a man, 
wound around the crown of his head above the forehead 
and ears. 

But the dress, strange and elegant as it was, was a 
matter of subsequent observation to us. It was the face 
of the man that struck us, and riveted our attention. He 
was an old man. I did not then know how old. But his 
eye was brighter than the eye of a young eagle. The 
suns of the desert for a hundred years had not served to 
dim one ray of its brilliance. I never saw such an eye. 
It pierced me through and through. His features were 
chiseled with the sharpest regularity, and his eye lit them 
up so that he seemed every inch a prince. And yet he 
was of diminutive form, small, slender, and his naked foot, 
that rested in the shovel stirrup, was thin and bony to the 
extreme. 

We had with us Mohammed Abd-el-Atti, a young 
Egyptian dragoman, with whom we were about closing 
an arrangement for our voyage southward. As we ap- 
proached the Bedouin sheik, Abd-el-Atti sprang from his 
donkey and rushed up to him, seizing his hand and kissing 
it, and the two exchanged the long series of Oriental 
blessings, with alternate touches of the breast and fore- 
head, which invariably signahze a meeting between friends 
long parted. 

Meantime we stood looking curiously at the scene, and 



AGREATSHEIK. 99 

in a few moments the old sheik turned his horse toward 
US, and Abd-el-Alti informed me that he was my old en- 
emy the Slieik Houssein Ibn-egid, the most j^owerful of 
the Bedouin chiefs from Cairo to Mecca. 

The old man touched my hand, and as we each lifted 
our fingers to our lips after the grasp, we exchanged a 
long, steadfast gaze, which seemed to satisfy him, for he 
laughed quietly to himself, and he asked me if I were 
going to Wady Mousa. Probably he thought me worth 
robbing, as he saw a lady in my company, and such par- 
ties are usually best stocked with plunderable articles. 

Sheik Houssein is an old man. Here men say that he is 
over a hundred years of age, and that his descendants of 
the fourth generation are full grown men, stout and strong 
on the desert. Be this as it may, he is a man well known 
in the world, and his fame has gone from Europe to 
America in the letters of travelers who have met him on 
the desert among his five thousand followers. There he 
is a chieftain to be dreaded. He has but to lift a handful 
of dust and blow it into the air with his thin old lips, and 
three thousand Bedouins are in the saddle at his call. He 
is the guardian of Petra, with whom all who desire to see 
the Rock City must make peace and friendship. 

But how came the Sheik Houssein within the w^alls of 
a city, and how came his mare to be treading the filthy 
streets of Cairo, through the narrow passages shut out 
from the sky — for Avhere we met them there was no sky 
visible, the street itself being roofed over with reeds to 
keep out the sun ? The story is somewhat long, but I 
will make it as brief as possible. 

Some time ago the caravan from Suez to Cairo was 
robbed of a camel loaded with indigo. The Sheik Ibn- 
sh-deed, who rules the desert from Cairo to the Red Sea, 
is responsible to the government of Egypt for the safety 
of the caravan. He has hostages in the city to secure 



100 RAMADAN EFFENDI. 

that responsibility. It was immediately evident that none 
of his tribe had committed the theft, and it was soon as 
evident that it was the act of two men belonging to a 
tribe nearer to Akaba, and bordering on the tribes that 
owe allegiance to the Sheik Houssein. Indeed, some evi- 
dence w^as given that they were actually men under that 
old Sheik's power. 

Among the Arabs still prevails that patriarchal form of 
government w^iich makes the sheik the father of his en- 
tire tribe. If one of them is in trouble — it matters noth- 
ing whether it be his son or the poorest wretch of his 
retainers — he will saci'ifice his life for him, and every man 
of the entire tribe is bound to do the same. The venera- 
tion for the sheik, and his care over them, is in every 
respect like that of a father for his sons, and children for 
their parent. Accordingly, when one is known to have 
committed a crime, no trouble is taken to catch him. 
Any one of the same tribe is quite the same thing. Ar- 
rest him if you can, bring him to Cairo, and send word 
to his sheik that he will remain in j^i'ison till the thief is 
produced at the prison-door, and all the tribe are at work 
instantly to secure the right man, taking care at first to 
exhaust all means of effecting the escape of the one who 
has been taken. 

Ramadan Effendi, one of the officers of government in 
high standing, the third officer in the Transit Department 
■ — who is the cousin and the brother-in-law of Abd-el-Atti 
— went on an expedition to catch one of the tribe at 
whose door lay the charge of this robbery. How adroit- 
ly he managed his business ; how he inveigled two of 
them into an ambuscade, and then sprang on them and 
bound them ; how the whole tribe dogged his returning 
way with his captives ; how he took them in one of the 
passenger vans to cross from Suez among the English 
passengers, and thus escaped the vigilance of the Bedou- 



CAGED EAGLES, 101 

ins; and how he deposited thera in chains, under bolt 
and bar, in Cairo, had been the subject of town talk for 
a month past among those who had known the circum- 
stances. Still there remained a doubt as to whether 
the robbers were of this tribe, and it was desirable to 
catch a man from the tribes that acknowledge the su- 
premacy of the Sheik Houssein, and thus make the mat- 
ter certain. 

I went to the prison to see these caged eagles — call 
them rather vultures — but they were splendid fellows. 
One of them was the son of the sheik of his tribe, and 
is celebrated as the man who dared to brave Mohammed 
Ali. Not many years ago, when that bold man had im- 
prisoned the Sherreef of Mecca in the citadel of Cairo, 
this Bedouin came under the wall of the citadel on the 
desert side — where it is fifty feet high — and, with ropes 
and his own sharp wit to aid him, entered the citadel, 
liberated the sherreef, lowered him to the desert sand, 
placed him on his own dromedary, and, with a shout of 
triumph, dashed away into the desert. Eighty horses, of 
the swiftest that the viceroy possessed, in vain followed 
the escaped captive. 

He sat and smoked his pipe calmly as I stood and 
looked at him. It was strongly suspected that he was 
one of the robbers himself. It was very certain that he 
would hang at the Bab Zouaileh if some one else were 
not sj^eedily taken. 

But the caravan of the pilgrims from Mecca was com- 
ing over the desert. This is the annual event of Cairo. 
The departure and the return of the Hadg are the two 
great festivals of the year, and the caravan had just 
arrived on the desert outside the city on the day of which 
I speak — and was waiting the order of the pasha to enter 
the gates and march in procession to the citadel. Three 
thousand camels were scattered here and there over the 



102 SHEIK HOUSSEIN CAPTURED. 

sand-hills, and the scene was one of tlic finest and most 
picturesque pageants that we have ever witnessed. 

A glance at the map Avill show any reader that the pil- 
grims, in crossing from Mecca to Cairo, pass immense 
deserts, and, of course, through the dominions of various 
Bedouin tribes. To each of these tribes the Hadg pays 
a certain sum for protection and safe passage. By spe- 
cial instructions sent to them this year, the officers in 
charge of the caravan made a dispute with Sheik Hous- 
sein, on passing through his country, as to the kind of 
dollar to be paid to him — the rate having been fixed in 
piastres. The Hadg oiiered the sheik French dollars at 
current rates, and he demanded, as no doubt he was en- 
titled, to receive them at government rates, which would 
give him about three piastres more on every twenty. 
The result was that they refused to pay him any thing 
until they should arrive at Cairo, and settle the dispute 
there. To this he agreed, and accompanied the caravan 
to Cairo ; and he was just entering the city when we met 
him in the Mouski. 

A fate that he little anticipated awaited him. "While 
we talked in the street, some fifty soldiers had gathered 
around us, and the old man found himself arrested. 

But he was not the man to exhibit emotion. Xo one 
would have supposed that the occurrence was other than 
Avhat he had come for, as he quietly asked me to go with 
him to the diwan of Mustapha Capitan. 

It was impossible to desert him under such circum- 
stances. Indeed I had no objection to seizing an oppor- 
tunity of befriending this universal enemy of travelers. 
Accordingly we rode with him, two hundred yards, to 
the Transit oftice. 

We were shown into an upper room, where sat Mus- 
taplui Capitan, the chief officer of the Transit Department 
at Cairo, and Ramadan Effendi, who is the next in rank. 



M r S T A 1' ir A C A P I T A N ' S D I W A X . 1 03 

Mustaplia occupied the comer of tlie cliwan, and room 
was immediately made for Miriam and myself on liis 
right, where we sat while coffee was served. Ramadan 
sat on our left, Abd-el-Atti being at hand to interpret in 
case of necessity. The room was crowded to suffocation 
with men in every variety of eastern costume, not less 
than fifty of them being Bedouins of every tribe be- 
tween Jerusalem, Mecca, Akaba, and Cairo ; the Sheik 
Ibrahim, whose tribe is between Gaza and HeHopolis, 
with a dozen of liis followers — dark, swarthy fellows, in 
blankets and shawls ; Ibn-sh-deed, whom I have before 
mentioned, with as many of his retainers ; Suleiman, 
from Akaba, a noble-looking man, with a fine, intelligent 
face, clothed in a brown robe, over a brown silk shirt, 
Avith a shawl of the same color on his head, the ends of 
which hung to Ins feet, and wdth him three darker and 
more devilish-looking Bedouins than I have elsewhere 
seen. If one met them on the desert, one would com- 
mence turning his jDOckets wrong side out before they 
had opened their lips. 

The diwan extended across the upper end of the room. 
In front of it was a small open space, in the centre of 
which the old sheik stood, and behind him those that I 
have named, in a semicircle, and then the dense mass in 
the lower part of the room. 

It was not necessary to explain to Sheik Houssein why 
he was detained. He heard them speaking of the lost 
camel, and he knew the story well, for every Bedouin in 
Arabia knew it a month ago. But he strode forwar<l 
into the semicircle, and while he gathered his cloak 
around him with his lefl hand, raised his thin right 
liand over his head, and stood in an attitude of grace 
that I have never but once seen equaled. The resem- 
blance to the North American Indian was startling. 
Every gesture was similar ; and the eloquence was the 



104 BEDOUIN ELOQUENCEc 

same natural flow of fierce, biting, furious words, yet full 
of imagery and beauty. I understood but little Arabic 
as yet, but I could folloAV him through nearly all that he 
said — asking Abd-el-Atti occasionally for a word or an 
idea — so perfect was his gesture, and in such perfect 
keeping with his subject. 

Occasionally Mustapha interrupted him with a ques- 
tion, and he replied. The substance of what he said was 
that he knew of the robbery, knew who did it, knew 
where the man, camel, and indigo all were, but that they 
were all out of his jurisdiction ; they were in the adjoin- 
ing tribe, and he would not undertake to catch the thief, 
simply because it was none of his business. If he should 
do it, his own life would not be worth an hour's purchase ; 
and there was no reason why he should throw it away for 
Said Pasha, a man to whom he owed nothing, and whom 
he did not love, respect, or fear. If the government of 
Egypt wanted the man enough to send an ofiicer for him 
who would take the responsibility of catching him, then 
he would aid him ; but he would not risk his life to do 
that in which he had no interest. 

Some severe expressions were nsed by Mustapha Capi- 
tan, which roused the old sheik's anger, and he shook his 
fore finger, while the room rang with his deep, guttural 
voice. " I am an old man ; I knew Said Pasha's father ; 
and Ions: before Mohammed Ali sat on the diwan in Cairo I 
was sheik in Wady Mousa. Said Pasha may think him- 
self somewhat of a man, because he is in the seat of his 
father. My son, you are a boy. You have caught me 
in Cairo ; but if I meet you outside the gates of your 
city — if I meet you on the desert sand — I will show you 
who is Sheik Houssein ! Kill me here now, if you dare ; 
and I have five sons, old men all, who will seek my blood 
on the stones of Cairo. No, no, Mustapha Capitan ; no 
no, Hassan Pasha; Sheik Houssein is not to be treated 



CHAFF FOR AN OLD BIRD. 105 

like a boy ! What ^vill become of your caravan next 
year, and the year after that ? Send ten thousand men 
with it to guard it by the mountains of Sheik IIous- 
sein, and from every rock and hiding-place, will he rain 
death on them, and the ten thousand men will lie on the 
sands. You dare not harm this old head ! I am not 
afraid of you, though I stand here in your strong house, 
in the heait of your great city. The man does not live 
who dares to hai-m me. Woe be to you, Mustapha Capi- 
tan, woe be to Said Pasha, if I go not out free from 
Cairo and unharmed !" 

The room was silent for a moment, as the old man 
took breath after tliis burst of defiance, and then every 
A'oice rang at once in a storm of dissension, dispute, de- 
mand, refusal, defiance, anger, and fury. This subsided 
as Sheik Houssein again raised his voice, and hurled 
his anathemas on Said Pasha and the Egyptian govern- 
ment. Meantime Mustapha Capitan sat calmly in the 
corner of the diwan, and Miriam and myself sat as calmly 
by his side. I confess that I thought once or twice that 
if this storm of words should result as it w^ould have been 
likely to result in any other part of the world, our chance 
would have been poor to reach the door through a hun- 
dred Arabs, every one of them fully armed. 

But the audience was over. Mustapha had had enough 
of the sheik, and he broke up the sitting by a nod. We 
went out with the crowd ; and as the room opened out 
on the large roof of the lower building, the Bedouins sat 
down on the stones of the roof, and we sat down in a cir- 
cle composed of the four sheiks that I have mentioned 
and ourselves, attended by Abd-el-Atti. Here w^e re- 
mained an hour longer, listening to the wily attempts of 
the others to persuade the old man into a promise to 
produce the thief It was in vain ; he was not to be 
caught. Accordingly I proposed to Abd-el-Atti to take 



106 A BAIL BOND. 

the old man with us and visit the other prisoners. I was 
anxious to see their meeting. He went with iis. 

As lie entered the prison-door they advanced to meet 
him ; and the first one, the son of a sheik, met him with 
outstretched arms, kissing him on each cheek, and receiv- 
ing his kiss in return, then pressing his forehead against 
the old man's forehead, both standing silent and motion- 
less for thirty seconds hi that graceful and strange posi- 
tion, their eyes fixed on the ground. The other prisoner 
received a similar salute, but not so impressive. The first 
prisoner was dressed in the plainest and most common 
gray blanket of the Bedouins. It was wound around his 
body, and the corner was thrown over his head ; and 
yet his slave, who had come to him from his far-off 
home across the desert, was as richly dressed as any man 
in the assembly, in silk and cashmere, and I might also 
Jiave remarked, was one of the loudest talkers in the 
audience-room ; for here slaves talk freely before their 
masters, and dispute with them fearlessly. 

Mustapha Capitan ordered the Sheik Houssein to be 
detained in the prison all night. Woe to Mustapha if he 
sets his foot on the desert sand east of Suez after this. 

I asked Abd-el-Atti if there was not such a process as 
giving bail known to Moslem law. There was, but it was 
only honor. If a man of reputation would promise on 
his religion to produce the prisoner, he might be given 
into his custody. 

So we arranged it. I never knew exactly how much 
my word had to do with it, or whether it was Abd-el- 
Atti's religion or mine that Mustapha Capitan depended 
on. Abd-el-Atti arranged it with Mustapha Capitan, 
guarantying his appearance when the government should 
call for him. The sheik was handed over to him and 
he brought him down to me at the hotel. 

After this he remained for two weeks our constant at- 



A PHOTOGRAPH. 107 

tendant, passing the nights with Abd-el-Atti at his house 
and reporting himself every morning to the autliorities. 
He was all this time like a caged tiger, quiet, but with a 
furious eye. His gratitude to Abd-el-Atti, for saving him 
from that worst affliction known to an Arab, a night un- 
der bolt and bar, knew no bounds. He prayed God that 
he might see him at Wady Mousa, and as he was old he 
promised the gratitude of his sons and descendants to re- 
mote generations. 

" What will you do to Abd-el-Atti, wdien he comes to 
your tent ?" I asked. 

He turned his eye up to Abd-el-Atti with a good- 
natured laugh, and drew his finger across his throat. 

I laughed at his jesting threat, and asked him what he 
would do to Mustapha Capitan if he ever came to Wady 
Mousa. His face sobered in an instant ; he looked 
with his flashing eyes at me, and was silent for a moment. 
Then he growled rather than spoke, 

" You know very well what I will do to Mustapha 
Capitan or to Said Pasha, if either of them comes within 
my reach." 

" How old are you ?" I asked him, as we sat smoking 
our chibouks in affectionate proximity one morning at the 
front door of Williams's hotel under the shade of the leb- 
bek trees. 

" My children's grand-children ride on horses," was the 
reply. , 

While he remained with us, I had his photograph taken 
by an artist who was passing through Cairo on his way 
to India. The old man sat like a statue. The first im- 
pression taken proved a failure, and, after an interval of 
ten minutes, the artist proposed to seat him again. It 
was unnecessary. He was in the chair, and he had not 
moved hand or foot — I don't think he had winked — since 
the':Qrst sitting. 



108 



AN ANCIENT BOX. 



This picture is an accurate likeness of a Bedouin sheik 
in full costume, precisely as we were accompanied by him 
from day to day ; the reader may rely on the accuracy 
of the camera, and not suppose that fancy has added a 
line. 




iO. 

The administration of justice in Egypt is a curious af- 
fair. As I was riding homeward that day, after leaving 
the old man of the desert, I met a camel carrying a large 
box Avhich contained a huge tiger. The animal Avas 
growling furiously, as every swing of the camel sent him 
now to one end of the cage and now to the other. I was 
comparing him to the old chief Never were two more 
alike. While I was looking at him, two tall stout men, 
Europeans, dismounted from donkeys which they had 
hired, and refused to pay the owner for them. On his 
insistinof, one of them struck him. Whereat he became 
more earnest in his demands for his money, but, was still 
perfectly respectful, though he held the Frank firmly by 
the folds of his dress. The latter, enraged at the perti- 
nacity of the Arab, struck him with his cane, and then 
gave him a terrible beating. 1 never saw a man so 
thoroughly thrashed. He struck him over his head and 
back, his legs and his bare arms, bringing blood at every 
blow. He beat liim across the street and actually into 
the open court of the 2:)olice office, where sat fifteen or 
twenty police officers, smoking sedately and calmly. Ko 
one of them moved from his seat, or spoke. Twenty 
other donkey men rushed in to the rescue, and the Frank 
broke his cane over the head of his victim, and then took 



110 TREATY PROVISIONS. 

to European swearing. The next instant lie rushed out 
into the street, around the corner of the building, to an 
old man who sells bamboo and rattans, bought a stout 
bamboo for a piastre, and returned to the charge. Again 
the poor Arab took it, and when he Avas thoroughly tired 
the Frank left the crowd and walked along the street as 
coolly as if he had but been whipping a dog. 

This is an every day occurrence in the streets of the 
city, and I mention it in connection with the arrest of 
the Sheik Houssein as showing what experience I had in 
one afternoon of the manner of administering justice in 
Cairo the Blessed. 

The explanation of this strange scene in the police of- 
fice is this. 

By our treaty with Turkey, and by the treaties of all 
civilized nations, it is provided that no American, English- 
man, or in general no citizen or subject of either of the 
powers so protected by treaty, shall be tried for any of- 
fense by Turkish law, but every offender shall be tried by 
the law of his own land. The substance of this is, that he 
shall be handed over to the consul of his government, and 
he sends him home for trial without witnesses — of course 
without possibility of conviction. 

Hence foreigners may commit crime with absolute im- 
punity, except for the blood revenge, which authorizes 
and requires relatives to avenge the death of their con- 
nections. 

As a result of this, every consul in Egypt has, what are 
called proteges^ the list varying from hundreds up to 
thousands. I beg especial attention to this enormity of 
fraud, in which our government is an innocent participa- 
tor, a fraud on the Egyptian and Turkish governments 
which all civilized nations are combined in perpetrating. 

Our present consul, Mr. De Leon, is, I believe, totally 
free from anv blame in tlie matter. He found a list of 



A G R E A T W R O N G . Ill 

American subjects, entitled to protection, left him by his 
predecessors, and he has done what he could to diminish 
the extent of the injury to the nation which this system 
brings about. But. what is he alone among the crowd 
of foreign consuls, each one a petty sovereign by virtue 
of this system. Its ramifications extend everywhere in 
Turkish dominions. I found it at Jaffa, at Jerusalem, at 
Smyrna, and at Constantinople. 

Out of this system wholly arose the Kosta difficulty^ 
and though this has given us a terrible reputation in the 
East, and one which secures profound respect for Amer- 
icans, because the Mediterranean nations have gotten the 
idea that we are a filibustering nation, ready to come and 
seize on their ports, palaces, and thrones, yet this whole 
thing was wrong from beginning to ending. 

No one in America understood precisely how the 
thing could occur, or how the commodore and consul 
dared to act as they did. But this system explains it. 
If Kosta had been a full-blooded Turk, and never out of 
Turkey in his life, had his name been found on the con- 
sul's lists o? proteges^ the same course would have been 
taken in carrying out the system. There are hundreds 
of such names on our consuls'' lists ! Men who never 
breathed any freer air than that of Mohammedan coun- 
tries — whose forefathers, to the days of Esau, were 
Asian, and whom their own government dare not lay 
finger on, because of this claim of protection on the part 
of the American government. Observe how it works. 
A Jew, doubtless direct in his line of descent from the 
Jews of the time of Jeremiah in Egypt, whose father, 
and grandfather, and great grandfather, were money- 
changers in the Jews' quarter of Cairo, killed a man in 
the street, and was arrested and imprisoned. An En- 
glishman who saw him kill the man, and who caused his 
arrest, is ray informant. 



112 A MURDERER. 

His conviction was certain ; his guilt clear as daylight. 

But, two days after his arrest, he sent for the French 
consul, had a long interview with hira, and the next day 
the consul showed his name in his list oi proteges^ and 
demanded his delivery to him. The government, of 
course, yielded to the demand. 

As a necessary consequence of this system travelers 
have no protection against each other, and, on the river, 
every man looks to his arms as his only guard. 

The time has arrived when this system should be 
changed. It is iniquitous, from first to last, and it is 
only in the fact that our present consul, Mr. De Leon, is 
an able, upright, and trustworthy man, that Americans 
can have any confidence for safety while in Egypt. 

In connection with this subject, I may here speak of 
the general administration of justice in Egypt. 

The days of Mohammed Defterdar are passed, and 
better times are come; still the wheels of justice move 
much on golden axles, and there is room for great reforms 
in justice and in practice. 

The viceroy is an autocrat. He says kill, and they 
kill. 

While I was in Cairo, he gave Mohammed Bey, chief 
of the police in Cairo, seven days in which to detect a 
murderer, and on the eighth morning, the murderer being 
still at large, his friends had ^^ermission to bury Moham- 
med Bey's headless trunk. 

The religion is the only lav/ of the country. By it the 
Khadee rules and judges as he did in the days of Haroun 
el Rasheed. 

I heard one day that a murder had been committed in 
the broad street of the city, and I went over to the police 
office to see the process of justice in such a case. 

It was a curious scene. On the fioor of the room sat 
the prisoner, literally loaded with chains. He had a chain 



THE BliOOD REVENGE. 113 

on each wrist, and one as heavy as a small ship's-cable 
going around his body and over his shoulders. It Avas a 
ridiculous formality, too ; for it was very manifest that 
lie had but to shake himself and they would drop off, 
even to the last link. 

Opposite to him sat four women, facing him. They 
were heavily vailed, but they watched him with flashing 
eyes. They were the relations of the dead man, attend- 
ing here to see that he was avenged. The law of blood 
for blood is omnipotent. 

I inquired into the process of the law with such a man. 

" When will he be tried ?" 

" In a month or two." 

" Do you make up any calendar of cases for trial ?" 

" Oh, no." 

" How do you remember that such a case is to bo 
tried ?" 

" They (the women) will see that we don't forget him," 

" Is there no other way of remembering it ?" 

" None ; the blood revenge will keep them active. 
We shall need no other reminder." 

" Where will he remain meanwhile ?" 

" In prison." 

" At whose expense ?" 

" His own." 

" Do you feed prisoners ?" 

" Not a mouthful." 

" Who does feed them ?" 

" Their friends." 

" If they have none ?" 

" What ?" 

" If they have no friends ?" 

" Never heard of such a case." 

"But if it did occur?" 

" I suppose he must starve." 



114 T II E M A K H M I L . 

Such is the simple routine of justice. Primitive, and 
certainly effective. I have no doubt that justice is as 
evenly administered in this same Cairo, as in Christian 
New York or London. Look ye to it, who would make 
Christian lands better than Moslem ! 

Shortly* after my first interview with Sheik Houssein, 
the procession of the Makhmil took place, which is the 
final breaking-up of the annual pilgrimage, by depositing 
the Makhmil in the mosk of Mohammed Ali at the cit- 
adel. 

This procession is ordinarily one of the grandest events 
of the Cairene year. The departure of the pilgrims is 
the time for more display, but the scene is not more in- 
teresting, perhaps not as interesting. 

The caravan had been waiting on the desert, outside 
the city walls, for the pasha's order that it should enter, 
and this at length was issued at a late hour on the even- 
in fj before. No one knew of it, and we should not 
have heard of it but for the faithfulness of our servant, 
Avho was up at his prayers before daylight, as every good 
Mussulman should be, and saw the soldiers passing on 
their way out of the city to meet the caravan ; so he came 
and roused me, and called a carriage instanter. It had 
been decided beforehand that we should have a carriage 
instead of going on donkeys, because, in the first place, 
we should be better able to see in a crowd, and in the 
second place, should be less liable to insult from the crowd. 
For on the day of this procession, from time immemorial, 
Mussulmans have been permitted to insult Christians with 
impunity, and the boys are accustomed to do so. 

The Makhmil is a somewhat curious affair. Few Mo- 
hammedans can tell you what it is, though they venerate 
it, and look forward and back to its arrival as the great 
event of the religious year. 

Long years ago — let us not be particular about dates — 



SHEIK IIOUSSEIN AGAIN. 115 

a certain royal lady, a queen, made the pilgrimage to 
Mecca, and forlier use had a gorgeous car or camel litter 
made, in which she rode all the way. The next year she 
did not go on the pilgrimage, but she sent her camel and 
her litter, and it was carried by the pilgrims each succes- 
sive year, until they forgot the origin of the custom and 
made it a religious rite. Each year a most gorgeous 
canopy is made — a new one every year — at the expense 
of the government, and this goes and returns empty. On 
its return, it is held most sacred. The people rush to 
touch it with their fingers. They press their foreheads 
and lips to the fringe, and rejoice at the blessing their 
eyes have in looking at it. 

We were effectually insured against insult w^hen we 
met Sheik Houssein and took him into the carriage. The 
old man did not exactly like to sit in such an affair. He 
said he joreferred to be on his horse, and when Miriam 
explained to him that we much preferred carriages in 
our cities, he promised that when she came to Wady 
Mousa, he w^ould give her such a horse as would make 
her forswear all wheeled vehicles thenceforth. He looked 
anxiously around him as we went along through the 
crowd that was pouring to the part of the city where the 
procession was to pass. We drove on rapidly, a runner 
preceding us and clearing the way. I wdshed to reach 
the l^ab el JVasr, the gate of victory, before tiie entrance 
of the procession, but I w^as too late for it. We met 
them in the narrowest part of the way, and the officers 
who preceded the procession turned our horses' heads, 
so that we were obliged to head the procession and drive 
back till we came to a convenient turn out, where we 
could stop and let them pass. This place we found and 
there saw them. 

The procession was headed by the camels w^hich had 
accompanied the Hadj to Mecca and back. Then followed 



IIG BESERTSIIIPS. 

tlie escort of cavalry and foot sent out to meet tliem. 
Behind these came the sacred camel, bearing the makhmil. 
It Avas indeed a gorgeous aiVair, T)la/ing Avith the i)urest 
Cfold. No tinsel work about this. Its value Avas incalcu- 
lable. The camel Avas almost hidden by the fringe of 
precious metal, and the balls and crescents shone like suns 
and moons. The Avhole crowd shouted and did reverence 
to it as it passed. 

The Alohammedan sign of reverence is made by placing 
the palm of the 0})en hand on the forehead, and drawing 
it down to the chin; every man, Avoman, and child did 
this, and then shouted. The air rang Avith the peculiar 
cry of joy Avhich the Avomen utter on all festive occasions, 
a long gurgling sound that no one can imitate Avho is not 
born in the East. Behind the makhmil, on a camel, sat a 
derweesh, naked to the Avaist, Avho is a somcAvliat celebrated 
character, and an important part of the procession. Ilis 
liead rolls as if it Avere not attached to his shoulders, but 
only lay there, and every motion of the camel sent it 
around. This motion is never knoAvn to stop from the 
time the makhmil leaves the citadel of Cairo on its Avay to 
Mecca until its return. Possibly in the night time, Avhen 
no one is near, he may rest and sleep, but this is denied, 
and it is asserted and believed that he never rests an in- 
stant or ceases this strange motion. 

Following him are the camels of the pilgrims, Avith 
their canopies and their families in them. The camel litter 
is composed of two boxes, swung on opposite sides of the 
camel, covered Avith one tent-like canopy. In each box 
are some of the riders, or possibly they balance the person 
on one side by the baggage on the other, if the family is 
not large enough to till both. 

These are the desert ships of old fame. Five thousand 
of them Avere in the caravan when they left Suez, but 
more than two thousand hastened on, and had been scat- 



A MYSTERIOUS SUBJECT. HY 

tered to their various homes a week or more before the 
arrival of the main body. Hence the jDrocession was not 
as fall as usual. 

After the camels came the guard of the caravan, a reg- 
iment of wild-looking rascals of every nation under the 
eastern sun, dressed in more costumes than there are 
countries in Asia and Africa, and these closed the pro- 
cession, which was altogether the strangest that we have 
ever been witnesses of They passed us and went on 
through the Bab Zouaileh, which is one of the most 
stately edifices in the city, and so on up to the citadel. 
The Bab Zouaileh is, as its name imports, a gate. Before 
tlie days of Salah-e'deen it w^as the most southern gate 
of Cairo, but when that prince extended the city, and 
built the citadel, this gate w^as left in the midst of the 
houses, and stands to this day a monument of the great- 
ness of that celebrated warrior. 

It is withal one of the most sacred places in Cairo, and 
while superstition even among Mussulmans shrinks from 
public gaze, here it is displayed to the utmost. 

The K'Utb is the most holy of the Mohammedan saints. 
No man can tell who, what, or where he is. His residence is 
always in the flesh, always in some Mussulman. That man 
knows it, and only he. When he dies, it passes to another. 
This Kutb, or Wellee, has the gift of ubiquity, or rather 
the power of instantaneous change of place. One gate of 
the Bab Zouaileh is never closed, but has stood for hun- 
dreds of years slmt back against the wall of the archway. 
Behind this is the place of the Kuth^ where oftentimes the 
passing Mohammedan casts a sudden look, hoping to see 
him. 

Upon this gate every Mohammedan who has had a 
tooth-ache, hangs the extracted tooth, thinking thereby 
to be insured against a recurrence of the malady. Hence 
the gate presents, as may well be imagined, a curious ap- 



118 TOOTH ANODYNE. 

pcarance. Some Imndrecls of grinders of every size and 
sort are placed in the cracks, or attached by strings to 
various parts of the massive portal ; and a dentist might 
make his fortune by selecting from them. Some of them 
are inclosed in small bags, but the large majority are in 
their native purity, or impurity. 

Over the gate did hang until it fell away in the winds, 
the rope by which Toman Bey, the last sultan of the 
Baharite dynasty, was hung in 1517, and until very re- 
cently the ghastly heads of the slaughtered Mamelukes 
grinned on the turrets above it. Without the gate is the 
spot still used for the execution of certain criminals, al- 
though it is now a crowded bazaar. 

The procession over, I drove back to the hotel, drop- 
ping the sheik on the way. His release at length came. 
The government paid him off, and allowed him to depart. 
He came down to bid me good-by, and urged me to visit 
him in Wady Mousa. 

We parted excellent friends. He promised me all man- 
ner of attentions in Wady Mousa, if I would come, and 
I have no doubt he would have treated me nobly. But I 
never saw him again, and the old man will be dead when 
I go to Wady Mousa. I heard of him in the following 
spring. As I was groping my way by torchlight through the 
grand caverns thjit underlie the north-east corner of Jeru- 
salem, a gentleman who was with me on that curious 
exploration, and who was one of an English party just 
arrived across the desert from Cairo, happened to men- 
tion Petra. 

" Did you go to Petra ?" 

" No." 

" Why not ?" 

" Why, the old Sheikh of the Alaween— " 

" Sheikh Houssein Ibn-egid ?'' 

" Yes — do you know him ?" 



A TOILET BOX. 



119 



*' I think I do ;" and I laughed loud and long, without 
waiting for his story, for I knew that my old friend Avas 
at his work again. lie had scared theni away from 
Wady Mousa. But I had faith to believe that he would 
be glad to see me there. 




ii. 

I i] e £ i] q M ill . 

HoAV I wandered about the streets of Cairo; how I 
visited the citadel, and again and again explored that 
deep rock-hewn well of Yusef Salah-e'deen, known as the 
well of Joseph ; how I stood, hour by hour, on the front 
of the unfinished palace of Mohammed Ali, and looked 
off at the Nile and the pyramids ; how, day by day, wc 
rode down to the boat, and watched her progress in 
fitting up, and bargained here and there for provisions 
and powder, flags and frying-pans, hams and hammers ; 
how, in one of my hasty gallops up the Monski, my 
donkey slipped and plunged me into the open arms of an 
old Turk, whom I was compelled to console by buying of 
him a half dozen of brandy, which brandy, O friend, bear 
in mind when I come to tell of the ascent of the cataract; 
how Trumbull and myself consulted all night about the 
comforts for the ladies, and worked all day on little 
nothings Avhich seemed of huge imjDortance then ; how 
we smoked pounds of Latakea over our volumes of 
Champollion, and the maps of Jacotin which Trumbull, 
with infinite skill, had copied in America, and brought 
with him ; how we rode out to the superb Shoubra 
gardens of Halim Pasha, the viceroy's brother, and 
sunned ourselves in the corridor that ran around the 
great fountain wherein foolish and false tradition saith 



MOHAMMED AI3D-EL-ATTI. 121 

Mohammed Ali was accustomed to keep pet crocodiles, 
and overturn boat-loads of liis wives ; how we did not 
see the fair odalisques in these bowers, as one fanciful 
author describes his own good luck, for the reason that 
they are never open when the ladies are abroad in them, 
but then rigorously shut even to men slaves of tlie j^asha; 
how we dreamed away a month of luxurious life in El 
Kahira the Victorious : are not all these things for our 
own memories, and too much and too many to be recited 
here ? 

Abd-el-Atti was a young, well-built, active Egyptian, 
with a face much like a North American Indian's. His 
complexion was copper-colored, his eyes black and rather 
unsteady. After the Nile voyage I took him with me to 
Syria ; and, having had him for a servant during nearly 
eight months of constant travel, I think I know the man 
perfectly. 

His temper was violent, but I had no difficulty with it. 
Like all dragomans, he was anxious to make money, and 
could see but one view of a money question. I had no 
trouble with him on that score either. If I yielded to 
him in one instance, I made him yield in the next. If the 
traveler will look out for his temperament, and treat him 
kindly, as a good servant should be treated, I have no 
hesitation in recommending him as the most accomplished 
dragoman in Egypt or the East. 

He had lived some years in England and France, spoke 
the language of those countries, Italian, Turkish, and 
his own, the Arabic — read and wrote Arabic well, which 
was a great desideratum for our purposes, and had seen 
travel and adventure enough to be able to tell and manu- 
facture large stories for our amusement, when there was 
nothing better to do. I give here our contract with him 
verbatim. 

6 



122 A NILE CONTRACT. 



dl It t r a c t . 



Wc, the undersigned, J. Ilannnond Trumbull, .ind W. 
0. Prime, with Mrs. Trumbull and Mrs. Prime, have this 
day agreed with Mohammed Abd-cl-Atti for a trip up the 
Nile, on the following conditions : 

1. Mohammed Abd-el-Atti engages to provide a com- 
fortable boat, with awning and jolly boat; to furnish said 
boat with beds, bedding, tables, china, glass, water filters, 
and all and every requisite necessary for the convenience 
and comfort of tirst-class passengers. 

2. Mohammed Abd-el-Atti agrees to provide all stores, 
provisions, candles, lights, etc., as shall be necessary for 
the entire voyage. Also to provide as many courses for 
breakfast, dinner, etc., as shall be required by the above 
j)arties. 

3. Mohammed Abd-el-Atti agrees to provide and pay 
for one cook, one servant, and one assistant, to wash 
clothes, etc., during the entire Toyage. 

4. Under the above conditions Mohammed Abd-el-Atti 
agrees to take Messrs Prime and Trumbull, and party, to 
Es Souan, and back again to Cairo, for the sum of two 
hundred and twenty-five pounds in gold, giving them fif- 
teen days' stoppage on tlie voyage, at any place or places 
they may wish to stop or remain at, and providing don- 
keys and guides for visithig any such places. 

5. For the first fifteen days of stoppage, exceeding the 
above period, that they may wish to remain below the 
first cataract, they will pay to Mohammed Abd-el-Atti the 
sum of three pounds fifteen shillings per diem. 

0. For any j^eriod they may wish to remain below the 
first cataract, after the expiration of the above provided 
i:)eriod, they shall pay Mohammed Abd-el-Atti the sum of 
three ])ounds per day for each day. 

7. Should the above parties, after their arrival at the 
first cataract, wish to proceed to the second cataract, Mo- 
hammed Abd-el-Atti agrees to take them on in the same 
boat, and same style, and they shall then pay him the 
sum of sixty-seven pounds ten shillings for the trip be- 
tween the two cataracts and back, and they shall have 
three days for stoppage, for visiting such places as they 
may desire. And if they shall desire to stop more than 



THEPHANTOM. 123 

three days above the first cataract, then, for every day 
of stoppage above three, they shall j^ay him at the rate 
of three pounds per day. 

8. It is, moreover, fully understood that Mohammed 
Abd-el-Atti is to pay all presents on the voyage ; to pay 
all donkey hire, guides, guards, etc. ; to pay the expenses 
of taking the boat uj) and down the cataracts, and all and 
every present to crew, sailors, reis, pilot, or persons on 
shore, during, and at the end of the voyage. 

9. It is understood that, if the party should go to the 
second cataract, then the provision for days of stoppage 
over fifteen days below the first cataract is altered, and 
they shall pay Mohammed Abd-el-Atti, in that case, only 
three pounds per day over the first fifteen days provided 
for, for every day more than such fifteen that they may 
■wish to stop. 

Dated, at Cairo, this 27th day of October, 1855. 
N. B. The boat is to be procured and equipped, and 
the trip to commence as soon as possible. 

Signed by the Americans. 
Sealed by Mohammed Abd-el-Atti. 

Under this contract he selected a boat, which we ex- 
amined and approved, and he proceeded to fit and fur- 
nish her. When this was done we hoisted the American 
flag, and, for a signal, a white flag with one large blue 
star in the centre, and named her from the name of a 
boat not unknown to fame in our home circles. The 
Phantom. 

There was something pleasant in the idea of calling our 
Nile boat, that spread her lofty wings on the air, Avhitc 
and very ghost-like in the light of a November moon 
in Egypt, by the name of that gallant boat which has 
weathered so many Atlantic gales along the coast of 
America, and with which many recollections of pleasant 
days, and pleasant life, and beloved friendn, are con- 
nected. 

But she was a very difierent craft. Seventy feet long 
by thirteen broad, she carried a mast stepped away for- 



124 FERRAJ THE TRUSTY. 

ward, about thirty feet high. On the top of this, swing- 
ing by a rough rope tackle, was tlie long yard, tapering 
from one heavy end below to a point sixty or seventy feet 
above the deck, and this carried the large triangular sail. 
Another smaller mast, stepped at the extreme stern, on 
the after-rail, carried a small sail of the same shape, which 
was managed by ropes rigged out on a pole projecting 
ten feet behind the boat. 

The cabins occupied all the after part of the boat, and 
rose five feet above the deck, the floor being sunk two 
feet below it. Thus we had ample height of ceiling, and 
with a dining-room, one large and two small sleeping- 
rooms, closets, and wash-room, we had a small house in 
which four persons could live very comfortably. The 
furniture of the boat was oriental, of course ; but two 
American rocking-chairs, j^art of a Yankee importation 
into Alexandria two years ago, made things look some- 
what natural within the cabin, and no one could suggest 
an improvement on our arrangements. 

Darkest of Nubians externally, and brightest in intel- 
lect, was Ferraj, our first cabin servant. Never was there 
a blacker or a better fellow. Ten years ago Abd-el-Atti 
found a crowd of slaves at Wady Halfeh, in the slave-pen 
on the bank of the river. He took a bag of dates in his 
hand, went among them, and sprinkled them on the 
ground. The black crowd sprang after them, and gath- 
ered them up gladly. He saw one small boy of seven or 
eight that was unable to get any, and he was struck with 
his appearance. Eight pounds bought him. He named him 
Ferraj (Trusty), and took him to Cairo. From that time 
they have been inseparable, and their affection for each 
other is an excellent illustration of that ordinarily subsist- 
ing between master and slave in oriental countries. He 
taught him to read — an accomplishment in this country 
which but one in a thousand can boast of— and having 



PILGRIM AND COOK. 125 

brought him up with the utmost care, made him a good 
Miissuhnau and a first-rate servant. He gave him fifty- 
pounds and his freedom two years ago. But they are as 
inseparable as ever, and the Nubian always accompanies 
his master on his expeditions with travelers. He is not 
more than eighteen, but would pass for twenty-two, and 
stands six feet in his stockings. 

Ferraj remained with us as long as Abd-el-Atti, and it 
would be almost impossible to say how much we became 
attached to him. Seek him out, O traveler to Egypt, and 
thank me for telling you of a treasure to a wandering 
Howajji. 

Hassan, the boy, was about fifteen, with a face of per- 
fect beauty, even for a woman's. It was a luxury to look 
at his dark olive complexion, and into his deep thoughtful 
eyes. He, too, spoke a little English, but not so much as 
Ferraj. The latter could think English, if he could not 
speak it always. 

" What's that ?" I asked him one morning, as he 
brought in a dish and placed it on the table at break- 
fast. 

" I not know what you call it. It's what — is — in iny 
head," and he laid his hand on his wool, thereby to sig- 
nify that it was a dish of brains ! 

One morning, as we sat smoking at the door of the 
hotel, Abd-el-Atti brouglit up a little shut-eyed, laugh- 
ing Egyptian, dressed in flowing trowsers and embroid- 
ered vest and jacket, with a turban of voluminous folds 
on his head, and red slippers, with sharp up-turned toes, 
on his feet. 

" This is Hajji Mohammed Mustapha, the cook." 

I looked at him and at Trumbull. Trumbull looked at 
him and at me. 

I was faithless, but submissive. How gloriously I was 
converted. What royal dishes, what inventions of ge- 



126 MONEY CHANGING. 

nius worthy of Ude, what gastronomic powers that wily 
little Egyptian possessed. I took him to Syria, too. I 
would have brought him here if I could. His resources 
were inexhaustible, and he needed thrashing only once 
in all my dealings with him ; that was when an English 
gentleman, who had dined with me at Nazareth, made 
him a laughing offer, and he actually deserted me then 
and there, and left me to starve on a fi-ying-pan and an 
Arab boy. I reformed him back in a twinkling after I 
caught him, and I think there was a tear in his eye when 
I parted from him at Beyrout. 

But I linger too long in Cairo. My last piece of work 
was to sit three mortal hours by a Jew money-changer, 
who did ten pounds of gold into copper money for me, 
which we carried, or a man for ns, to the hotel, to fur- 
nish small change on the upper river. This, and about 
four times as much more, belonging to Abd-el-Atti, stood 
on our boat in open baskets during our whole voyage — 
accessible to any fingers, but always safe. 

At four in the afternoon the last cart, car, van, break, 
or whatever may be the proper name of the Egyptian 
vehicle drawn by a single bullock, was at the door of the 
Indian Hotel, where we had noAV been for six weeks. A 
half dozen loads had previously gone down to Boulak to 
the boat, and on this we piled our trunks and small arti- 
cles, and then surveyed our empty rooms with no regret. 
"We were glad to be away, although every hour had been 
pleasantly employed, and a year would not suffice to show 
the stranger all the graceful minarets, strange, quaint 
lattices, exquisite arches, and lofty mosks of the city of 
Salah-e'deen. But the Nile was forever flowing by, laden 
with stories of Karnak, of Philaj, and of Abou Simbal, 
and we grew anxious to be away on its waters. 

The Phantom lay at the bank of the river in the rear 
of the house of its owner. Passing through the house 



ALL ABOARD 127 

by an arched passage and climbing down a filtliy bank, 
the rubbish-lieap of tlie family, we reached the deck and 
took possession of the vessel. 

Tlie "monarch of all I survey" idea was the prominent 
one at first; but there was too much work on hand to 
allow of its being enjoyed. Trunks, boxes, crates of 
turkeys, coops of chickens, carpets, mats, oranges, fruits 
of all kinds, guns, pistols, coats, shawls, and the hundred 
et ceteras of a Avinter outfit lay in indescribable confusion 
everywhere. Out of this chaos we proceeded to extract 
order, and having at length accomplished our design in a 
measure, we discharged our donkey-boys with the cus- 
tomary bucksheesh, and wrapping around us our cloaks 
and shawls, for the air was chilly as we came out of the 
cabin, we went up on the cabin deck and ordered all 
clear for the start. 

I could for a moment fancy myself on the deck of the 
old Phantom in western waters, but only for a moment. 

"Are you all ready there?" That's the English of 
my question, which in Arabic was a single interrogative 
word, " Iladah .?" 

The answer was tolerably good English, if it was pure 
Arabic — " AiovKih^'' not unlike an American sailor's 
" Aye, aye." " Cast off then — go ahead Reis Ilassanein." 

This last command, j^rofane as it sounds, had no refer- 
ence to the Reis's visual organs. The order in Arabic is 
''^Godam Ya Reis Hassanein^'' literally, "Forward, Cap- 
tain Hassanein." We fired thirteen guns, and the Phan- 
tom fell off on the current from the shadow of the houses 
into the glorious moonlight on the Nile. 

Never was such an hour for departure on the voyage. 
The sky was fathomless in its deep blue beauty. The Nile 
was yellow gold under us. Minaret and dome stood up 
in the silent air, and shed a softer light than the moon's 
own rays, while far away, solemn and majestic, the so- 



128 DREAMS. 

lemnity tliat of immortality, the majesty that of centm-ies, 
stood the pyramids of Ghizeh, gray and solemn in the 
light of their old companion. How contemptuously the 
moon and the pyramids looked down on us sexage- 
narians of the nineteenth century after the coming of 
our Lord ! How swiftly the river rushed by us, on to 
the sea that had received it for so many ages, heedless of 
the passing travelers whose lives would be as brief as the 
shadow of the sail passing between the moon and the 
wave ! 

It was an hour for dreams, if dreaming were possible 
where all that was real was dreamy — where the trees 
were lofty palms, waving their crowns to and fro on the 
starry sky — where the shores were the dust of dead Pha- 
raohs and the children of Jacob and Joseph — where the 
buildings were domes and minarets, and over all the an- 
cient pyramids — where the stars, calm and steadfast, have 
looked down on a hundred dynasties of kings, on the 
graves of a score of nations — where Moses taught and 
Plato learned, and where the infant eyes of the Son of 
God looked up to His and our home. 

I wrapped my Syrian cloak closely around me, for it 
was cold at first, and sitting on the cabin deck watched 
the curious operations of my new crew, and endeavored 
for an hour to learn the philosophy of their ways of doing 
things. But I was puzzled beyond endurance. When 
they wished to turn the boat's head, they jiulled pre- 
cisely the oar I should have let alone; and when they 
wished to take the wind, they flattened the sail to it with 
as sharp an edge as they could possibly manage. Tliis was 
the fashion with every thing, and so continued through- 
out the voyage. The boat, in fact, managd itself, sailed 
and steered itself, and did every thing but make itself 
fast and cast off. Indeed it did cast off once in a while, 
and I woke to find her drifting quietly to a sand-bank 



NIGHT IN CAIRO. 



129 



or a rock, while every man on the boat was sound 
asleejD. 

An hour j^assed, and the wind had failed us. We lay 
under the Ghizeh shore of the river, with lofty j^alms 
over our heads, a boat with an English j^arty on board 
lying a hundred yards from us, and profound silence rest- 
ing on the river and shore. Even the soft ripple of the 
river seemed but to make the silence audible, and no one 
could imagine a city with two hundred thousand inhab- 
itants on the bank of the stream by our side. 

This is a strange characteristic of Cairo in the night. 
With the sunset every one goes home. Here and there 
a lantern is visible in the evening, as some belated pedes- 
trian hurries along ; but there are no street-lamps, no 
windows to the houses shhiing out on the passers-by, no 
sparkling shop-lamps, no shoppers, theatre-goers, diners- 
out, or other late w^alkers along the highway ; the city is 
in profound darkness, and the river flows by as silent a 
shore as where the desert comes down to it on east and 
west in Nubia. The oldest Egyptian that lay in stone 
sarcophagus, or painted mummy-box at Sakkara, slept 
not more profoundly than I that first night on the river. 




i^ 




S 1| 1 1] bo ^ 1^ jj ol 

Like the music of a dream, like 
the sounds one hears in waking 
hours that are given to visions, 
sweeter than the voices of birds, 
far sweeter than sound of organ 
in cathedral or choir, be it ever so 
triumphant, came over the river, at 
the break of day, the muezzin's call 
to prayer. From the mosk of 
Mohammed Ali, at the citadel, high up above all Cairo, it 
came first. The Sultan Hassan took it up, and old Too- 
loon, and far-off Ghalaoon and El-Azhar, and I even 
heard, or thought I heard, the old man's voice Avho sings 
to the sands of the desert that roll around the tomb of 
Ghait Bey. It came swelling like the sound of a harp- 
string, until the four hundred mosks of the City of 
Saladin took it up, and it filled the charmed air with 
sweet and holy melody. " Prayer is better than sleep — 
awake and pray." 

It was not yet light, but the footsteps of the day were 
in the east ; and he came on, now with a faint gray light 
over the Mokattam hills, now with a flush of crimson on 
the white and gossamer-like minarets of the mosk of 
Mohammed Ali, and now with the full burst of sunlight 
on the valley of Memphis and On. 



AN OBLIGING GOVERNMENT. 131 

A light breeze now stole up the river, and we made 
sail. Running slowly along on the west side of the isl- 
and of Rhoda, and passing the i^alace of Hassan Pasha 
and the busy scene at the ferry of Old Cairo, we lost the 
city, and were on the most lordly of rivers. We were 
stopped by a hail from the shore, and on approaching 
found a messenger from the government-office which had 
sent us the carriage the day previous. It is worth relat- 
ing, as an illustration of the constant anxiety of this gov- 
ernment and its officials to please foreigners. We had 
left in the carriage a small pasteboard almanac, value 
three cents on the 1st of January, and much less now that 
it was the middle of November. When the carria2:e was 
cleaned in the morning it was found, and a cawass was in- 
stantly dispatched after us with two horses and a govern- 
ment drag. 

He went to Bonlak, and learned that we had sailed in 
the evening. Then he went to Old Cairo, and crossed 
the ferry to Ghizeh, where he learned that we had passed 
early in the morning. • Returning to the east bank, he 
drove four miles up the river and overtook us as I have 
related. We sent the small boat on shore for it, and 
then squared away — if the word is allowable, with a 
lateen sail — and the wind having now freshened, the 
boat seemed verily as if she had wings, and flew on, the 
water parting with a rush and ripple on each side of her 
bow. 

In the afternoon, we passed a boat lying at the shore, 
and carrying an American flag. It was the boat of Rev. 
Mr. Martin, one of the American missionaries at Cairo, 
just starting on a voyage of inspection to determine 
whether it was desirable to locate a mission at any point 
up the river. We met them frequently, and had great 
pleasure in their pleasant companionship. 

The pyramids of Gliizoh, of Saccara, and of Dashour, 



132 NXLEMUD. 

ajDpeared in succession as we apj^roached them, and 
watched our departure with changeless aspect ; nor was 
it till late in the afternoon that we lost sight of the lofty 
citadel of Cairo and the white mosk that shines from it. 

It was not to be supposed that we should find ourselves 
entirely at home on our boat within the first twenty-four 
hours, and yet I fancy that any one who saw us that day, 
stretched on diwans, smoking our chibouks, and reading 
or talking, would have imagined us old voyagers on the 
return from a long journey ; so perfect was every provis- 
ion for comfort and luxury. The hotel in Cairo was noth- 
ing to it, though that was excellent. 

The Nile itself, at first, sadly disappointed me. I con- 
fess to ideas of a clear and glorious river, like the swift 
Ohio, flowing over golden sand and shining stones. I 
had never paused to ask myself whence came its fertiliz- 
ing powers, or whence the vast deposits of soft mud that 
enrich the lower part of Egypt ; and when I saw the 
strong stream in the hot sunshine, looking more like flow- 
ing mud than water, I was unwilling to call this the Nile. 
Utility was not what I wanted to see in the river. Beauty, 
majesty, power, all these I had looked for, and there was 
nothing of them until the sun went down, and the moon 
gilded — not silvered — the stream. Then it was the river 
of my imagination — a strong, a mighty flood, glorious in 
its deep, strong flow, and the unsightly banks, which, in 
the day, are abrupt walls of black mud, in layers, looking 
like huge mibaked brick, become picturesque and fairly 
beautiful with waving groves of sont and palms, and glis- 
tenino; fields of doura. 

We were all awake before the sun rose next morning, 
and saw him come up after the short morning twilight, 
which is beautiful beyond words. The sharp outlines of 
the hills, in morning and evening twilight, surpass belief. 

Before the sun was above the mountains, Trumbull and 



AN EGYPTIAN DRAGOMAN. IH.S 

myself were off on the plain, shooting partridges, for the 
wind was gone and the boat was lying at the bank. In 
half an hour Ferraj came off to us with cups of hot coffee, 
exquisitely made, for therein Hajji Mohammed did excel, 
and having taken these, gun in hand, we strolled up the 
river, and the Phantom followed us before a light north- 
ern breeze. As this increased she i^icked us up, and Ave 
ran on with the lofty sail swinging in the strong, full 
breeze, and pulling her by the nose through the rushing 
current of the river. 

We reached Benisoef at noon on the third day, and while 
strolling through the narrow bazaars, with their cupboard 
shojDS, I was not a little amused at the dragoman's method 
of treating his countrymen. Travelers should take a na- 
tive dragoman in preference to a Maltese on this account, 
that the inhabitants have no fear of a Maltese before their 
eyes, and insult travelers without hesitation and without 
being punished, when they are attended by a foreigner. 

But the presence of a native dragoman does not always 
protect from insulting language. 

I did not, but Abd-el-Atti did, overhear a remark made 
by one of three men seated in a shop front, somewhat 
derogatory to the character of Christians in general, with 
particular reference to me. He wheeled in an instant, 
but the Arab was too quick for him, and vanished around 
a corner, leaving his shoes on the ground in front of the 
shop, and his two companions sitting witliin it. With one 
of the shoes Abd-el-Atti beat one of the scoundrels, and 
with the other shoe he thrashed the other, finishing each 
castigation by throwing the shoe into the face of the vic- 
tim, adding a little advice to keep better company. Abd- 
el-Atti was by no means satisfied with the escape of the 
chief offender, and ten minutes afterward, as we returned 
that Avay, proposed to surround him. It was probable he 
had by this time returned to talk over the affair with his 



134 A NATIVE THRASHED. 

friends. Abd-el-Atti walked on unobserved, and having 
passed the shop, gave me a signal. We closed n]^, and 
he sprang like a cat on his prey. 

Never was man more astounded. Abd-el-Atti had 
snatched a stick from a by-stander, and showered blows 
on the back and head of the offender, until he made a 
sudden bolt to escape, and, in his intense haste, stumbled 
over a boy, and went six feet into the dirt, taking a piece 
of skin off from his nose — quite large enough to keep him 
employed in better business for some days, than insulting 
travelers. Fifty turbaned shop-keepers looked on all this 
with motionless countenances, neither approving nor dis- 
approving, by word or gesture, though I thought I could 
detect a smile of satisfaction in some of their dark eyes as 
he bit the dust. 

We left Benisoef with a rattling breeze, but it failed 
us toward evening, and a dead calm followed. In the 
morning I went ashore, on the eastern side, to look for 
game, and found myself on a large island several miles 
in extent. A native, at work in the fields, assured me 
that I should find wild hogs in the thickets back of the 
doura fields, and signaling the boat for two sailors to 
help me, I went into it with the determination to have 
them out if they were there. 

It was a warm day, but the air was clear and rich, like 
wine to the lungs, and I scarcely felt any fatigue after a 
five-mile walk at a fast rate. 

Here, I found a thicket that had all the appearance of 
being a fit place for the game I was after. I had no 
knowledge whatever of the animal's habits; had never 
shot one in my life, but I guessed at his taste from his 
cousins in America, and plunged into the mud swamp 
with full expectation of seeing my game before me. 

Nor was I disappointed. I had not advanced ten rods, 
when one-eyed Mustapha shouted furiously, and a small, 



WILD PIGS. 135 

dark pig dashed through the thicket, close to Abdal- 
lah's feet. I shot. Abdallah threw himself on him, 
they rolled and floundered together in the mud ten sec- 
onds, and then — presto — the pig was gone, and Abdallah 
nearly gone. Never was poor devil so muddy. He was 
a mass of mud. His hair was mortar. His nose was 
stopped. His mouth was full of his native earth, and his 
clothes — he had but one shirt, and that could not be 
harmed or dirtied. 

I saw no more pigs or hogs, or tracks of any sort. I 
shot four rabbits, four partridges, a dozen and a half 
pigeons, and shot at a curlew that I didn't hit; and have 
always been sorry since that I missed, as he w^as different 
from any other that I have ever seen. I returned to the 
river four miles above where I left it. The boat was 
slowly approaching, and I sat down to rest while the 
men tracked her up. From this time till we reached Es 
Souan, nearly thirty days afterward, we continued most 
of the time to track. 

The Nile has along each bank a tow-path as well 
beaten as that of a canal in America. At times, when 
there are sand-banks near one shore, the boat is rowed 
across, and the men resume their tracking on the oppo- 
site bank. The speed made depends of course on the 
velocity of the current against which they are pulling, 
and varies from eight to twelve miles a day with a boat 
as large as ours. 

On the next evening w^e were at the little village of 
Abou-Girg, on the west bank; and as Abd-el-Atti was 
going into the village for milk, I accompanied him. The 
low water would not allow the boat to reach the bank, 
and we had directed her to anchor in the middle of the 
river, as well for the sake of avoiding thieves as for con- 
venience. Nor could the small boat reach the shore; 
and having pulled up in the mud, I mounted the should- 



136 A MOONLIGHT ADVENTURE. 

ers of an Arab sailor, who carried me safely to dry- 
land. 

The mud village was as quiet as a grave-yard in the 
moonlight until we approached, and then fifty dogs made 
the night hideous with cowardly barking! Milk is not as 
easily procured as might be imagined in a country where 
cattle, goats, and camels are plenty. Butter brings them 
so much better prices, that few are willing to sell milk ; 
and hence the propriety of applying to a man in authority 
to compel the production of the article we wished. I had 
been furnished with all the necessary authority for this 
purpose, having with myhrman a sort of roving letter of 
credit from the government, directed to all sheiks of vil- 
lages, and officials, great and small, requiring them, at all 
times, to give me whatever I wished, in the way of pro- 
visions, at government prices. 

It was a mud village, and the streets were but narrow 
alleys between the walls of the low, windowless houses, 
whose roofs were corn-stalks or palm-branches. The 
moon shone very quietly down in those streets. I had 
never seen it more so. There was an aspect of repose 
about it that I could account for only in one way, and 
that was by supposing that the rays of light, having fallen 
into this vile and dirty spot, had lain down there in the 
repose of absolute despair. 

*' Where is the sheik ?" we demanded of a naked boy 
who made himself visible in the moonlight an instant. 
But he vanished with a howl of terror, and made no re- 
ply. We met a woman face to face, as she came around 
a corner, carrying a calabash on her head. She stopped, 
drew her dress around her face, set down her calabash on 
the ground, never removing the gaze of lier eyes from 
my face, and then wheeled, and darted away. 

At length we caught a man, and he took us up a street 
to a point where it made a short angle to the left for 



SCARCITY OF MILK. 137 

thirty feet, and then continued its course. The moon 
shone up it, but tliis angle was in the shade ; and on a 
diwan made of dried mud, the customary bench in all the 
Egyptian villages, sat the sheik and a half dozen of his 
friends in the shade, with their backs to the moon, look- 
ing up the street, where it shone clearly again. Our er- 
rand was soon stated, and the pail, which one of the sail- 
ors had brought, was placed on the broad bench in front 
of the sheik, while I sat on one side of it, Abd-el-Atti 
stood on the other, and a dozen men, women, and boys 
sat down in the dusty street, just within the Hne of 
shadow. 

The old sheik jDuffed his pijie in silence a moment, then 
handed it to me. One soon forgets prejudices. It would 
be some time before I could be induced at home to take 
a pipe from the lips of a white or black man ; but I had 
not been in Egypt a month before I had learned that my 
Nubian servant always brought me my pipe between his 
own large lips, and I had accepted the hospitality and 
wet mouth-pieces of a dozen Turks and Arabs. I did 
manage at first to get a sly wipe over the mouth-piece 
with my thumb as I took it ; but I gave up this notion at 
length, and therefore I took the sheik's chibouk imhesi- 
tatingly, and puffed as contentedly as his vile Beledi to- 
bacco would permit, while he summoned up his followers. 
" Hassan ! Hassan ! Hassan !" The village rang with the 
voice. No house was there that did not hear it. I' at 
Hassan did not appear. Hassan was wide awake. All the 
village knew that we wanted milk, and Hassan, for the 
first time in his worthless life, was away from home. 

" Some one bring Hassan !" growled the sheik ; and 
while some one was about it, he shouted for " Moham- 
med." Mohammed was on hand. He had no milk, and 
was safe in appearing, while they endeavored to convince 
him that he had a gallon of it. Hassan was brought into 



138 PRETTY FACES. 

the ring, and the sheik ordered him to bring the desired 
article. Hassan swore he had no milk. He did not know 
Avhat milk was. If you would believe him, he never drew 
milk from his mother's breast ; and, in fact, on looking at 
the intense darkness of his countenance, it seemed j^roba- 
ble that he was right. He was innocent of the article. 

But the sheik knew Hassan. A storm of words com- 
menced that resounded through the village, and Hassan 
departed growling. The moonlight fell quietly in the 
narrow street, and the group, which had steadily in- 
creased in number, sat in the edge of the light, striving 
in vain to pierce the darkness that enveloped my comer, 
and catch a sight of my countenance. The sheik was 
silent, and I followed his example, puffing industriously 
at his vile chibouk, which I twice handed back to him 
with my hand on my forehead, and which he as often re- 
turned to me wet from his lips, with his hand most im- 
pressively plunged into his loose robe, in the region where 
ordinary humanity carries its heart, but where an Egyp- 
tian carries either a stone or nothing. 

It was not so much the mouth-piece as the tobacco 
to which I objected ; but I resigned myself to it after 
fruitless efforts to get rid of it, and kept at it with com- 
mendable perseverance, until I discovered a sleepy-look- 
ing Arab on the other side of the sheik, who looked as if 
he would be glad of a chance at it, and I passed it to him. 
He seized it and made fast to it, while I yielded myself to 
a profound sense of satisfaction, and, leaning back, looked 
up toward the stars. I say toward the stars, but not at 
them, for not less than twenty heads intercepted my 
vision. The roofs of the houses were crowded wdth 
women, who were looking over into the open space below 
to see the stranger, I stared at them unobserved, and, 
though they were villagers living in mud huts and clothed 
in blue cotton, still they had as beautiful faces among them 



MILK IS FOUND. 139 

fis I have seen in splendid halls, and eyes that outshone 
the stars themselves. Ah, those lustrous eyes of the 
Arab women ! one can not imagine the possibilrty of all 
the extravagances of the Arabian Nights until he has 
seen their depths of beauty, and then he understands it 
all. The dark lines of kolil^ drawn around the edges of 
the lids, make them appear like diamonds set in ebony, 
and their laughing expression is the soul of fun and de- 
light. 

I asked the sheik what fruit grew on the house-tops in 
Abou-Girg ? Every head was raised instantly, and the 
eyes disappeared in a twinkling, while a hearty laugh ran 
around the circle. At this moment Hassan made his ap- 
pearance with a bowl containing less than a pint of milk, 
which he j)oured into the pail in front of the sheik. Then 
came a tempest. The sheik groaned, and Abd-el-Atti 
waxed eloquent. Hassan was overpowered with the 
storm of words that ensued, and departed to squeeze his 
calabash or his cows for a little more. Meantime Moham- 
med had been dispatched to raise some milk under pen- 
alty of a thrashing if he failed ; and when he was gone, 
the sheik shouted for female assistance : " Serreeyeh ! 
Serreeyeh !" 

She came, wearing the invariable blue cloth wound 
around her body, head, and face, the eyes alone being 
visible, and was dispatched on the same errand, while the 
sheik asked news from the war, and we launched into the 
sea of politics. The scene was enlivened by the arrival 
of an Arab mounted on a white horse, and a half dozen 
tall fellows in red tarbouches, who had been sent for to sit 
on shore all night and watch our boat. Every village is 
responsible for the safety of a boat lying over night at or 
near its banks, and, if robbery occurs, must make good 
all losses. 

At length Hassan returned with another pint of milk, 



140 SLEEPY GUARD. 

and poured it into the pail with an air of satisfaction that 
seemed to claim the approval of his neighbors. The 
sheik looked in, took up the pail, shook it, looked at 
Hassan, and set it down with a groan of disgust that was 
irresistible. I think Hassan's chances for a well pair of 
feet were poorer at that moment than they had been in 
some weeks. But Mohammed arrived in tlie nick of time 
with a good supjjly, and filled the pail. As for Serreeyeh, 
Serreeyeh is doubtless looking for it yet, for we saw no 
more of her. I took my leave of the sheik and went 
back to the Phantom, followed by the guard, who spread 
their mats on the bank while I pulled off to the boat, 
which was anchored fifty yards from the shore. For an 
hour the men on board exchanged hails every ten min- 
utes with the guard on shore ; after that our hails were 
unanswered, and from the appearance of the three mats 
and six dark sj^ots on them, I was convinced that they 
were keeping watch after the most approved Turkish 
fashion. 

The next day we tracked again all day. But there was 
nothing tedious in this way of progressing, for it gave us 
an opportunity of going on shore and walking, shooting, 
gathering shells, agates, and cornelians, or meeting the 
natives and talking with or looking at them. 

We strolled along a sandy beach, the ladies looking for 
specimens of the Nile shells, and J and myself carry- 
ing our guns and shooting an occasional plover or pigeon. 
We came to a point on the east bank not far below the 
village of Sheik Plassan, where the desert came down to 
the edge of the river, and from the Nile to the Red Sea 
the sand rolled everywhere. There was a rocky point 
projecting into the river, and on its top the remains of a 
foundation hewn in it. Nothing but these lines was 
there. No fallen wall, no blocks of stone, no column, 
only the trench in the solid rock that marked the outline 



OLD AND REVEREND. 141 

of the building which had once stood there. There was 
nothing strange in this, for ahiiost every rock from Cairo 
to Wady Halfeh has interesting memorials about it ; but 
no American, accustomed as we are to the modern, can 
look on the foundation-wall of a building of three thou- 
sand years ago without pausing to analyze the new 
thoughts and emotions that crowd into his brain. Pos- 
sibly our monuments are older. Perhaps the mounds that 
I opened on the banks of the Ohio may be the graves of a 
race that had grown old when Egypt was young — of a 
people whose monarchs were mighty men of renown long 
centuries before the valley of the Nile rang to the sounds 
of war under the Shepherd Kings. I have looked on 
those mounds with reverence, but reverence more for the 
mysterious and unknown than for the ancient and great. 
I have slept in solemn nights, when the wind was wailing 
through the forest, wrapjDcd in my blanket, in the turf 
inclosure that contained one of those strange heaps, and 
every night ghostly visitors surrounded me, giant men, 
like trees w^alking, and with voices like the wind. But I 
never felt in those dark communions with the unknown 
past any of that profound awe wdth which I stand among 
the relics of a nation whose history I know, and whose 
age is recorded on granite. 

It w^as but a line on the stone, but it told of the days 
of princes and kings. We sat dow^n on the rock, 
Miriam and I, and the sun shone pleasantly down on us, 
and the river passed on at our feet as we read the story. 
It was of kingly footsteps on the floor, of the light tread 
of the fairy feet of princesses, of the tramp of men-at- 
arms, the sound of music, and laughter, and song, and 
dance, and revel. Soft passages w^ere not wanting, that 
told of pure and gentle love ; and those we paused to 
read, for human love hallows the earth more than any 
other incident in all the life of man. I care not where it is 



142 



ANCIENT LOVE. 



— though ia the hut of an Egyptian Fellah or the hovel 
of a miserable Berber, if the sanctifying influence of love 
have been there, it has made it a sacred j)lace. And the 
thought that arms had been twined around each other 
here, that lips had wooed each other's kisses here, that 
hearts had beaten against hearts, and strong embraces 
held young beauties, and voices whispered low soft words 
of human fondness, and eyes looked love here — this 
thought hallowed the rock, though arms, lips, and young 
beauties were all dead dust a thousand years ago — dead 
dust carried away on the river to the sea, and by the sea 
scattered to the islands and continents of an unknown 
world. If all the dust of all the earth could but start 
into life and clear perception for an instant where it now 
lies, what strange, wild countenances of affright and hor- 
ror would men see staring on them from the earth be- 
neath their feet in every land ! 





i3. 

We reached Kalouseneli that day. When withm four 
miles of it, I left the boat, and crossed the country on 
foot, gun in hand, shooting along the way. 

At the village I found it market-day. There are about 
a hundred acres of palm-grove here — it might almost be 
called a forest — and in the shade sat literally hundreds of 
men, women, and children, with their various wares and 
merchandise. All the fruits, grains, and products of the 
country abounded, and there were long rows of tempo- 
rary shops, consisting only of shawls spread on the ground, 
covered with beads and other trinkets, to tempt the 
Bedouin or Egyptian women. I sat down under a palm, 
tired out, and endeavored to cool and rest myself; but a 
gaping crowd, scores and scores of the people, surrounded 
me, stifling the air, and nearly suffocating me. I left the 
market and entered the village. It was the usual mud 
structure of Egyj)t, and but for the beauty of its palm- 
grove, would have been as detestable as any other. I 
found a coffee-house on the bank of the river, where I 
sat down to wait the coming of my boat. It was already 
occupied, but they vacated the coolest diwan on my ar- 
rival, and I took it. 

Do not imagine a coffee-house on the European or 
American plan. Far from it. A mud Avail in the rear. 



144 A COFFEE SHOP. 

seven feet high, and two posts at the front corners, sup- 
ported a roof of reeds or of corn-stalks. This is the 
Egyptian cofiee-shoj), found in every village of any size, 
and furnishing coftee at ten paras the cup, araka at a little 
more, and boosa at five paras for enough to get sick upon. 
Forever be the memory of Egyptian boosa detested ! It 
was here that I first encountered it, and, unsuspicious 
man that I Avas, invested my paras — five of them constitut- 
ing almost the smallest coin known in Egypt — in ordering 
a cup of beer — Arabic, boosa. It came, and I looked at it, 
and elevated my gaze to the faces of the group around 
me. They did not understand my horror, except only a 
ghawazee, a dancing-girl, whose intense black eyes flashed 
her fun as she saw me j^osed by the earthen dish full of a 
vile abomination that — on my faith it did — smelled as if 
it had already served the purposes of two Arabs, and 
refused to stay on their stomachs. I tasted it. I taste 
every thing, clean or unclean, that Arabs taste. No, I 
am wrong : there is a dish that Abdul Rahman Eftendi, 
the governor of Nubia from Es Souan to Wady Halfeh, 
called my attention to, and which I did not taste. 
It was the entrails of a sheep, chopped fine, with the 
gall broken and sprinkled on them, which a half dozen 
Berbers were eating raw, with a gusto that might 
have tempted a less fastidious man ; as I said, I did 
not taste that. But I did taste the boosa, and I handed 
back the dish, cup, bowl, whatever its name was — it 
held a quart — and I begged the proprietor of the shop, 
as a special favor to me, to pour it all back into his 
reservoir, and shut the cover down. I shudder as I re- 
member it now ! 

I sat for two hours in the cofiee-shop, and I am soriy 
to say that my company was none of the most reputable. 
There were three filthy-looking Arabs, half-civilized Be- 
douins, belonging to a tribe that Mohammed Ali per- 



A LAW QUESTION. " 145 

suaded to occupy arable land and raise camels for his 
uses, and whom Said Pasha has converted into enemies 
by attempting to tax. Tiiere was a great rascal, in the 
shape of an owner of a boat, who was endeavoring to 
extract a sum of money out* of a poor reis by a sum- 
mary process, not unlike some attempts that I have seen 
in other countries, in which attempt there were some ten 
or twelve villagers deeply interested, while two ghawa- 
zee — dancing girls — dressed in the voluptuous, half-naked 
style of their profession, swindled the various parties out 
of successive cups of coffee, or the money to buy them, 
by the same arts that women of their character practice 
all the world over. 

The dispute about the boat, between the owner and the 
reis, grew furious. All shouted at once, and now I 
learned that the sheik of the reises was present endeav- 
oring to settle the difficulty. 

This is a feature of Egyptian government. Every trade 
or business has its sheik. In Cairo you will hear con- 
stantly of the sheik of the donkey-owners, and, on any 
dispute arising among your boys as to the division of the 
day's pay, you had nothing to do but to throw down your 
money, and let them go to their sheik and settle it. 

Achmet, the boat owner, had contracted with Reis 
Barikat to let him his boat for a year at a fixed rate jDer 
month, and he had had it a year and a half, and paid 
regularly. Just at this time freights were very high, and 
the boat was loaded with grain, and ready to go down 
the river, when the rascally Achmet demanded the boat, 
on the ground that his contract was for a year and no 
longer, and although it ran on six months longer, that 
was no reason why it should six months more. 

The dispute waxed furious, and came at last to the 
true w^estern style. 

" You lie." 

V 



146 BRAHEEM EFFENDI. 

" You lie yourself." 

And then they went at each other. Loud shouts 
arose on all sides, and the ghawazee danced in uproar- 
ious fun at the idea of a light, and ran up to me with the 
most decided indications of their intent to embrace me 
as they had embraced every body else. 

I was sitting on a bench of mud a little elevated from 
the mud floor of the coffee-shop. I drew my feet up 
under me, and felt for the handle of a friend in my 
shawl-belt as the roaring, screaming mass came over to- 
ward me, and just then Abd-el-Atti made his appearance 
with koorbash in hand. A koorbash is Arabic for cow- 
hide, the cow being a rhinoceros. It is the most cruel 
whij^ known to fame. Pleavy as lead, and flexible as In- 
dia rubber, usually about forty inches long and tapering 
gradually from an inch in diameter to a j^oint, it adminis- 
ters a blow which leaves its mark for time. 

I had not been on the Nile a week before I learned 
that the koorbash was the only weapon of defense nec- 
essary to carry, and we soon gave up knives and pistols 
and took to the whip, of which all the people had a salu- 
tary horror. 

Abd-el-Atti made the crowd fly as he swung his w^eapon 
among them, and silence ensued with astonishing sudden- 
ness. 

" How dare you make such a row in the presence of 
Braheem Eftendi ?" 

"Who is Braheem Effendi?" asked the reis of the 
boatmen, for up to this moment he had not observed 
that the stranger in the coffee-shop was a Howajji. 
This was owing not to my oriental appearance so much 
as to the extremely shabby costume that I happened to 
have on that morning. 

" Yonder he is." 

The reis advanced immediately to pay his respects 



A JUDICIAL OPINION. 147 

and apologise for the row. I had to be frank and tell 
him it needed an apology. Then he stated the difficulty, 
and Achmet interrupted him, and Reis Barikat sat silent 
on the ground just outside the shade of the coffee-shop, 
sulien as if he expected, as a matter of course, that, now 
that his affair was referred to a rich man and his turgo- 
man, the decision would be against him, a poor devil 
without friends, right or wrong. 

Abd-el-Atti interpreted rapidly and fluently, much to 
my admiration, and when I expressed surprise that any 
doubt could arise on so clear a case as this, and asked if 
they had no law to punish the man who had sat, day after 
day, on the bank and seen his boat loaded while he 
waited for the opportunity to attempt extortion like 
this, old Reis Barikat looked over his shoulder at me in 
astonishment gradually changing into delight, and then 
I proceeded to deliver a lecture on the doctrine of bail- 
ments, contracts, executory and executed, and all the 
law that could be a^Dplied remotely or nearly to this case, 
or any case like it. The crowd around the coffee-house in- 
creased to not less than a hundred persons, all profoundly 
silent, while I amused myself by watching their dark 
faces, among which the bright countenance of one of the 
ghawazee girls, white as a Circassian's, and rosy as a 
Georgian's, shone conspicuous with delight, for she had 
all along favored the old reis, who had, doubtless, 
given her a free sail down to Cairo once in a while. 

The scene was worth remembering. I sat on the 
bench, over which a straw mat, crowded with fleas, had 
been spread. Abd-el-Atti stood before me. The sheik 
of the boatmen sat on the ground m front, Achmet by 
his side, and the villagers stood crowded behind them. 
By the time I had finished my address the Phantom was 
in sight, and rising from the seat of justice, I gathered 
my robes about me with as much dignity as might be, 



148 A COSTLY HEAD-DRESS. 

and quietly walked down to the boat, leaving the reis 
and Achmet to the tender mercies of the sheik enlight- 
ened by American law. 

Abd-el-Atti remained behind, and informed me that 
the sheik's decision was based on the profound views 
that I had suggested, although, to say truth, he did n't 
remember the precise order of them or what they were 
about. But he gave Reis Barikat the boat on the same 
terms for the voyage as before, and administered justice 
to the feet of the extortionate owner. 

While we were lying here, I saw a woman sitting on 
the bank tearing sugar-cane to pieces with her teeth, and 
feeding it to her child. The mother's beauty of teeth at- 
tracted my attention, and I approached her to look at 
them. Her head-dress was of the shape common in her 
country, consisting, as I sui^posed, of round pieces of 
brass attached to each other. Her form was not un- 
graceful, and most liberally exposed by the single blue 
shirt, open to the waist, which alone covered it. Abd- 
el-Atti asked her something about her head-dress, and 
told her he would give her five paras apiece for the orna- 
ments. I looked at him in surprise, and told him he was 
making her a large offer. 

"Do you think so? Look at them," said he — and I 
walked up and took hold of them. They were gold 
pieces, Constantinople money, worth twenty odd j^iastres 
each, and the woman had on her head actually more than 
a hundred dollars' worth of gold coin. This style of head- 
dress is everywhere common. Women wear all they pos- 
sess on their heads, and nearly every coin in circulation 
in Egypt has a hole in it, showing that it has been used 
for this purpose. The young children of the poorer 
classes wear the base metal coins of the value of a half 
piastre and upward, and it is an evidence of the general 
honesty of the people, that young children of five and ten 



PALM- TREES AND MOONLIGHT. 149 

years old are seen everywhere with head-dresses covered 
with these coins. 

It was not yet evening, but there was no other village 
for some distance above, and we thought it best to pass 
the night here. Accordingly we laid the boat up at the 
l)ank, and spread our carpets under the palm-trees. Here 
we sat till the sun went down, and the moonhght came 
gloriously over us. Never was there such a moon, never 
such skies, never such stars as these. And when the 
night comes, and I sit in the holy light that sanctifies 
even this apparently God-forgotten land, I think there 
can be no life in all the world like this. Palm-trees, 
moonlight, and the Nile! What more? Sometimes — 
sometimes, I say — not often — on such nights as these, I 
remember a distant land of cold storms and biting frosts. 
Often — liow often ! how earnestly, how fondly, I remem- 
ber a land of gleaming firesides and beloved faces ; and I 
see the sad countenances of two who look for my coming, 
and then I long to be away. God keep us all to meet in 
a land that I love better than Jerusalem itself, for all my 
darling memories of childhood and of you ! 

At break of day we glided away from the shadow of 
the palm-trees, and pursued our course slowly up the 
river — I, as usual, taking my gun and one of the men 
with me, and walking on shore, in advance of the crew 
who were at the tracking-rope. The current was strong, 
and we had not advanced far when we met a boat in 
which were a man, his wife, and two boys coming down 
on the stream. It was heavily loaded and near the 
shore, and the man was unable to row off and give our 
boat the track, as was our right. It was manifest that 
unless he stopped her we should be afoul, and that with 
force enough to sink one or the other, or both. The usual 
Arab shouting commenced, and the eldest boy plunged 
into the stream with a rope for the shore. He reached 



150 A H AIR' S-BRE ADTH ESCAPE. 

it, but the current swept him by the steep bank. I gave 
him the end of my gun, and my man caught the rope, 
and between us we swung the boat in to the shore. At 
the moment that her bow struck, the other boy jumped 
for the shore, and missing his footing, fell into the stream 
just in time for the boat to close over him and absolutely 
extinguish him. I thought he was done for. But Mo- 
hammed sprang to the rescue, pushed off the boat, and 
seized him literally in extremis. 

All Arabs, men and boys, have their heads shaved, 
leaving only a scalp-lock, said by some to be left in imi- 
tation of the Prophet, who wore his own thus ; and by 
others said to be for the convenience of the angel who 
will pull them out of their graves when the day of rising 
shall come. The tuft of hair served the boy's purposes 
at an earlier date than had been anticipated. Moham- 
med lifted him bodily by it, his feet and hands spread 
out like a frog. I thought his scalp must be pulled off; 
but no. He picked himself up from tlie mud into which 
Mohammed threw him, and stood, without a whimper, an 
unconcerned spectator of the scene which followed. His 
father Avas indignant at Mohammed for saving the boy's 
life so rudely. He should have been more i^olite about 
it. The old man struck a good blow, but got a better 
one in return. By this time the crew had come up with 
the tracking-rope, and some natives had run down to the 
shore. The tnelee became general. I was the only one 
not in it, and I amused myself with seeing their harmless 
blows, which were showered furiously on each other, 
while the shouts were hideous. Blows and shouts at 
length became milder, and the difficulty was ended. The 
crew resumed their tracking-rope, turning occasionally to 
hilrl a general volley — a sort of company-fire of words — 
in the rear, until Reis Hassanein, who had been foremost 



CONVENT OF LADY MARY. 151 

in the fray, resumed his walk by the side of his men, and 
gave the time for the invariable towing chorus — 

*• Ya Allah ! ya M'hammed I" 

which they continued right cheerily until afternoon, when 
we were under the Jebel e' Tayr, or " Mountain of 
Birds," which, saith tradition, the birds annually visit 
for the purpose of leaving one of their number im- 
prisoned until their next return. The why and the 
wherefore who knoweth ? 

But the mountain is better known as the site of the 
" Convent of the Pulley," or of " Sitteh Mariam el 
Adra" (our Lady Mary the Virgin), and, more briefly, 
" Dayr el Adra." It is a long range of cliffs, singularly 
broken, and full of rifts and chasms, rising perpendicu- 
larly from the east side of the river for four miles. The 
convent, wiiich is in fact but a Coptic village within mud- 
brick walls, occupies the highest part of it, and access to 
it is had by a well-hole, a natural break in the rock, up 
which men may climb from the river's edge. Otherwise 
one must go some miles around to reach it. 

Coptic convents are not such places as we are accus- 
tomed to imagine convents. Marriage not being for- 
bidden to the priests, their wives and families necessarily 
form part of the inhabitants of a convent, which thus be- 
comes a village, often of no small dimensions. A church, 
surrounded by mud huts, and all inclosed in a wall to 
protect them from the incursions of Bedouins, Avho have 
no fear of the church before their eyes, composes the 
residence of the monks. They Jive as they best can — ^by 
begging, cultivating land, and possibly in less honest 
ways. I have not much admiration for the Copts. A 
Mussulman is worth a dozen of them, and a much safer 
companion. The Dayr el Adra boasts a church built by 



152 SWIMMING MONKS. 

the Empress Helena, but it is nearly in ruins, and there 
is nothing interesting outside of it. 

Long before we were up with it, two black heads were 
visible on the surface of the w\ater under the hill, and 
two of the monks came off to the boat, swimming more 
than tw^o miles to meet us. Their robes were not accord- 
ing to any monastic order that I have before heard of, 
nor could any opinion be formed from them of the rank 
of the individuals. In point of fact, the only opinion one 
could form was of their physical developments, and these 
were magnificent. They were naked, and two more 
stout, brawny, heavily-built specimens of humanity were 
never seen in or out of a monastery. They made the air 
ring and the cliffs echo their shouts from the time they 
took to the water until they reached us, " Ilowajji, Chris- 
tiano ; Christiano, Howajji," and would doubtless have 
added the demand for bucksheesh in the approved Egyjj- 
tian style if I had not anticipated them. I was on the 
upper deck sketching the hill, and wdien they were within 
two hundred yards of us, rapidly approaching, throwing 
their long arms out of the water and drawing themselves 
along, I called to them to give me bucksheesh. I 
begged more vociferously than an Arab — I shouted, I 
howled it out : " Edine Bucksheesh, Edine Bucksheesh, 
Khamsa, Ashera, Bucksheesh, Bucksheesh!" 

They were taken aback. It was not what they came 
for. I had mistaken them. It was they who wanted 
money. They had not come on a benevolent mission to 
the travelers' boat ; so they dropped astern very quietly 
and swam ashore on the west bank, along which we were 
tracking, where they held a small council and took each 
other's advice according to priestly rule. It appeared to 
be a new question in their experience. For something- 
like a thousand years the monks of the monastery of the 
Sitteh Mariam had been accustomed to ask gifts from 



HOWAjji MA fish! 153 

passing travelers, but never before had one demanded 
aid from the convent ; and yet it looked proper ; even 
their thick skulls felt the penetrating power of the idea. 

Five minutes closed the council, and they advanced 
along the sand to the side of the boat. 

"Howajji," commenced the leader. I have an idea 
that he was the father abbot ; he was six feet in — no — 
7iot in his stockings. His tone was subdued. It was by 
way of introducing a conversation that he called our at- 
tention. I was busy over my sketch with my head bent 
down, though I watched him steadily. 

" Howajji." 

" Howajji mafish," replied Trumbull. " There's no 
Howajji here. What do you mean by calling me a shop- 
keeper ?" 

Again he paused to consider. There was a point in 
the remark. The term How^ajji, or Howaggi, as it is pro- 
nounced in Egypt, is ajDplied indiscriminately to all trav- 
elers, originally as an expression of contempt, though 
it has become the common phrase for a foreigner who 
travels for pleasure. The Turks consider all other na- 
tions mere shopkeepers, but the Christian monk had no 
excuse for using the word. At length he began again. 

" Sidi" (gentleman), and proceeded to state his case. 
It was a somewhat unecclesiastical affair altogether, but 
I think he did not appreciate that. When he had ex- 
plained his wishes, which resolved themselves into the 
usual demand for charity, only it was somewhat novel to 
hear it asked in the name of the Saviour, we invited the 
monks alongside. They swam off to the boat and held 
on to the rail, with their mouths open and heads thrown 
back, and we administered the silver in due form, laying 
it on their tongues. But the ceremony w^as, incomplete, 
and the next instant they shouted for " wine, wine," with 

mouths yet wilder open. This exhausted our respect for 

»7* 



154 MEDICINE AND SURGERY. 

the church, and I swung a whip over their heads so sud- 
denly that they disappeared hke divers, and swam ashore 
again. They walked by our side three miles or so up the 
river, and then took to the water again, and swam across 
to the convent, w^here, I trust, for the benefit of future 
travelers, they referred the question I had suggested to a 
chapter of the worthy brethren of the Dayr el Adra — a 
forlorn hope verily. 

In the afternoon, while I was away shooting geese, one 
of the men cut his hand badly, and I found on my return 
that Miriam had bound it up skillfully, and it was doing 
w^ell. But he insisted on my examining it, and I did so. 
Every man on the boat thereupon presented himself with 
a wound, bruise, or sore of some sort to be attended to, 
excepting one only, who, after diligent search over his 
body, could find nothing but an ancient wart on his finger 
that he begged to have removed. 

Medical advice and medicine are the most frequent de- 
mands, next to the invariable bucksheesh, which we have 
to reply to, not alone from our men, but from men along 
shore. Women bring their children with sore eyes and 
bruised bodies, and beg medicine, advice, and bucksheesh. 

In the evening the deck of the boat presented a scene 
that I much wished to have before me for preservation 
on canvas. Reis Hassanein had an old uncle who came 
with us from Cairo, by permission, as far as Manfaloot, 
where he resides. He was an ancient reis himself, hav- 
ing navigated the Nile for fifty years, and was fifty times 
the man that his nephew was. All the evening he was 
sitting on one side of a lantern, while Abd-el-Atti read 
aloud to him from a ponderous volume of the Arabian 
Nights, and the old man's face would light up with a glow 
that was positively fine, as some passages of special beauty 
or spirit struck his ear. Abd-el-Atti read well, and his 
volume of the Arabian Nights proved a valuable addition 



BOOKS. 



155 



to our library. Thereby hangs a story, too, which is 
worth the telling, as illustrating the manner in which 
things are sometimes clone in the East. 

Mohammed Ali, among his other good deeds, published 
a large number of books at the government press in 
Boulak, and among other books he printed an edition of 
the Arabian Nights, and another of geometry, both 
large books, the former in two volumes. But who in 
Egypt could be found to purchase books ? The edition 
lay unused, unsold, and unread, till the government 
issued an order requiring every person in their emj^loy 
to take five or more copies of each. A capital way of 
disseminating information this. Some hundreds of men 
who could not read a letter were thus supplied with sev- 
eral copies of valuable books. The result was that they 
Avere glad to sell them for whatever they could get, and 
for a while books were cheap in Cairo. 




iif. 

iff^of^loot ^0^ £^ Sioiif. 

" Braheem Effendi," said Reis Hassanein, as we left 
Minieh, after examining the sugar factories there and 
tasting Said Pasha's rum which he distills "in spite of 
Mohammed's law." The eifendi was in his usual place 
with his chibouk, on the larboard side of the cabin deck, 
and acknowledged the low voice of the reis by a look. 

"The wely yonder, imder the fig-trees, is death to 
crocodiles." 

It was a Moslem tomb standing on the river bank in 
the village of Minieh. 

" Why so ?" 

" Inshallah ! They never pass it. If they do they turn 
wrong side up and float down dead." 

Such is the story. Certain it is that the first crocodile 
I shot at going up was a little way above here and the last 
one coming down was near the same place. 

The river now began to grow more interesting. The 
hills on either side were more or less pierced with tombs, 
and early the next morning we were abreast of JBeni 
Hassan^ one of tlie most interesting points on the Nile. 
But a breeze from the north is never to be thrown away, 
and we did not stop now even to see the reputed tomb 
of Joseph. 

At evening, under the foot of a lofty bluff, we passed a 



A NEW PASSENGER. 157 

small Moslem wely, or saint's tomb, with a white dome 
over it, known as that of Sheik Said. A superstition of 
the river leads all sailors passing this to throw into the 
water some bread for the birds, of which there are hun- 
dreds here. They are a common white gull, called by 
the sailors Abou N^oiiris^ and are said to inhabit the 
tomb. No boat refusing the gift of bread can hope for a 
safe passage. The birds swooped down in clouds to pick 
up the floating pieces, and we saw the ceremony repeated 
by four boats in succession descending the river as we 
went uj:). 

Reis Hassanein had a new passenger on deck that morn- 
ing. It appeared that while we were lying up in the 
night a downward going boat had stopped near us and 
proved to be in command of Hassanein's father, and to 
have his own little daughter on board, going down to see 
her father in Cairo. He took her out and was now convey- 
ing her back to Manfaloot, her and his home ; that is to 
say as much his home as any place, for these Nile reises 
are roving people and have wives and families, sailor 
fashion, in every port. The fact was that his Manfaloot 
wife became uneasy at his absence of more than a year, 
and had packed off this child to hunt him up. 

Hassanein applied for permission to remain in Man- 
faloot over one night. I warned him that I didn't like 
this sort of thing, a wife sending a child to look after her 
father's habits and haunts, and that he must look out for 
squalls at Manfaloot. But the misguided wretch insisted 
on his desires, and after due consultation Trumbull and 
myself agreed to leave him to his fate, and promised to 
stop at Manfaloot for a night. 

Next day we passed the cliffs of Aboufayda, celebrated 
for wild and furious tempests, but we found them calm, 
and went ingloriously by at the end of a tow rope. 

Trumbull and myself went ashore in the afternoon, and 



158 THE FATHER OF THE TORCH. 

walked some miles along the foot of the cliiFs, examining 
empty tombs with which the hills were honey-combed. 
Bones and mummy cloths abounded. The dead had been 
here, but were gone on the winds. I climbed one hill 
two or three hundred feet, and looked into innumerable 
tombs on terraces, but found nothing. I found one nar- 
row cavernous entrance which penetrated far into the 
hill. I had not then adopted a plan I learned soon, never 
to be without a candle in my pocket. I went in two hun- 
dred feet by the light of successive pieces of paper, and 
then my supply was exhausted, and I Avas obliged to re- 
tire. I have little doubt that an exploration of this cav- 
ern would repay w^ell. It is not mentioned in any of the 
books. It Avas about three feet wide by an average of 
six high, and seemed to have been worked in the rock. 
A little way above this we passed a great collection of 
modern Christian graves in a ravine that came down to 
the river, and which I suppose to be near the village Ebras. 

Descendino- from a hillside where I had been in tomb 
after tomb, I found myself almost literally on the top of 
the wely of Sheik Abou Meshalk (Father of the Torch), 
wherein for nearly or quite a hundred years one man 
lived and grew old and fat on the bucksheesh of passing 
boatman. He always left a light burning in the dome 
or wely, and however fierce were the winds around Abou- 
fayda, the sailor was secure who caught sight of the 
steady gleam of Abou Meshalk. 

The old man died about six years ago, and his grand- 
son, a brawny Arab, has succeeded him. As I leaped to 
the ground at the very door of the tomb he demanded 
bucksheesh, and I gave liim some copjDcrs, whereat he 
retired, and I marked him as the first and last man in 
Egypt I have seen satisfied with a gift. 

Reis Hassanein left the boat to cut across lots and 
reach Manfaloot early in the day. We arrived at evening, 



AFFLICTION OF HASSANEIN. 159 

and he was already satisfied. He stood on the bank 
waitmg our arrival, and he did not venture to raise his 
eyes to mine. 

" Was all right, Reis Hassanein ?" I shouted. 

" You are always right, O Braheem Effendi," was his 
melancholy reply. 

He had found not only a squall but a tempest in his 
house. 

" She said she knew I had another w^ife in Cairo," said 
he the next evening as we sat on deck together, smoking 
quietly, as he told me his wrongs and afflictions; "and 
when I denied it, she beat me, and she called in her father 
and her mother and her brothers and all her family, ami 
they put me in a corner and kept me there till the boat 
came. And when I went back in the evening, they cor- 
nered me again, and one or another talked to me all night 
and abused me, and called me all manner of names ; and 
if you please, O Howajji, I will not stop at Manfaloot 
when we go down the river." 

We could not oblige the reis in this request, for one of 
my most interesting adventures in Egypt occurred in the 
crocodile pits at Maabdeh on the opj^osite shore, and at 
Manfaloot, when we were descending the Xile. I believe 
that the reis made it right with the family on the second 
visit by virtue of cash and presents of dates from Nubia. 

We awoke early in the morning on our approach to Es 
Siout, the chief city of Upper Egypt. 

The city lies back from the river, but the palace of 
Latif Pasha, the resident governor, is directly on the 
bank. A row of stone steps, designed especially for the 
use of the viceroy, descends from the palace gate to the 
water, and at the foot of these Abd-el-Atti laid up the 
Phantom^ assuming that the American Howajjis were suf- 
ficiently noble to walk up such steps, especially as they 
carried the firman of the viceroy himself. 



160 ARECEPTION. 

We fired some guns on approaching the land, and a few 
moments after touching the stakes two officers in uniform 
came down by the side of the stej^s — to ask the names 
and character of the new arrivals. Abd-el-Atti re- 
ceived them on deck while we were at breakfast, and we 
had scarcely finished when another officer in full Nizam 
costume, attended by two aids, came on board and an- 
nounced that the governor himself would visit us. 

We could not consent to this, and hastened up to the 
court of the palace, where we met him just coming out, 
and he returned with us to the boat. 

The reception of guests in the East has been so fre- 
quently described that I may run the risk of a repetition. 
Yet I think I may venture, once for all, on a minute ac- 
count of this visit as an illustration of eastern manners. 

Latif Pasha is one of the finest-looking men I have ever 
seen. His complexion is Avhite and clear, eyes black and 
roving, an exquisitely-cut lip over which was a mous- 
tache, closely trimmed, and his beard, in Turkish style, 
also cut short ; for a well-dressed Turkish gentleman never 
wears a Ions: beard. He was dressed in the Nizam cos- 
tume, all his clothing being of black cloth, his shawl a 
heavy Damascus silk, wound around his waist, and a red 
tarbouche on his head, with white takea showing under it. 

As he entered, two officers took their position at the 
door of the cabin, one on each side, and his pipe-bearer 
advanced with his pipe ready-filled and lighted. 

He seated himself on the starboard diwan, and Abd-el- 
Atti stood in the centre, while we sat opj^osite, and then 
commenced the usual salutations, repeated in various 
forms. Latif Pasha understood French and English, but 
he Avould not converse except in Arabic or Turkish, 
through Abd-el-Atti as interpreter. 

Coffee was served instantly on his taking his seat. 

Oriental coffee is a dense, dark decoction, sweetened 



LA TIF PASHA. 161 

and served in tiny cups, each cup fitting in a silver or 
gold cup a little larger. The receiver touches his hand 
to his breast and forehead as he takes it, and the host at 
the same moment goes through the same form. The 
coffee is sipped with a loud noise of the lips, and the 
empty cup returned to a servant, who receives it on the 
palm of one hand and covers it with the other. A wealthy 
Turkish gentleman carries his own pipe with him, having 
his pipe-bearer as a constant attendant. We were abund- 
antly-well provided with chibouks, and not unfrequently 
filled ten or twelve at a time in the cabin. 

The conversation, which began in the usual formal 
style, gradually ran into general politics, and then into 
general matters, and his excellency, finding our tobacco 
and cofiee and conversation all agreeable, sat the morn- 
ing out. 

I am under very great obligations to Latif Pasha for a 
pleasant winter in Egypt, and I passed a morning with 
him afterward at Minieh, where I had opportunity to thank 
him for his kindness. He furnished me with full letters 
of credit on all Upper Egypt, by virtue of which I was 
able to command all the assistance I desired at any time, 
and was enabled to make my journeyings raj^id, pleasant, 
and successful. 

He smoked splendidly, lipping his jeweled amber 
mouth-piece as if he knew what a superb lip he had, and 
sending clouds of smoke through his moustache and 
around his fine face. 

He apologized for not returning our salute in the morn- 
ing, as he had no gun loaded. He made up for it in the 
evening. 

When he left us we accompanied him up to the top of 
the steps, the distance the host goes with his guest being 
the measure of his respect. 

A few minutes afterward ten donkeys, of the most rare 



162 BEDOUIN THROATS. 

and elegant breeds, made their appearance, being placed 
at our service, and several officers having orders to accom- 
pany us and see that we wanted nothing. We mounted 
for a ride to the city and the mountain beyond. 

As we Avere riding up the long avenue, an officer, 
splendidly mounted, rode up to us, and with profound 
respect handed me a package of letters to various officials 
on the upper Nile, which had been instantly prepared by 
the governor's directions, and at the same time informed 
us that Latif Pasha was fearful he should not see us again, 
as he had received despatches calling him down the river. 

We knew what this meant, and not long afterward 
heard the result of his mission. I have already mentioned 
the Bedouins, whom Mohammed Ali reduced to civiliza- 
tion and Said Pasha has driven into revolt. 

Latif was the man for them, and was sent to look after 
them. Our gentlemanly friend has the reputation of a 
devil among the Arabs. Some time after this I met a 
Bedouin near Abydos, and heard of the manner in which 
he suppressed this revolt. The Bedouin cursed him with 
all the curses of his race. 

" What did he do ?» 

The fellow's wild eye Hashed at me, as he drew the 
back of his hand across his throat for answer. 

" How many ?" 

" One hundred and iifty !" 

I could not think it possible, but I learned that it was 
probably true. The law requires him to report a sentence 
of death to Said Pasha. He obeys the law, but only after 
executing the sentence. 

As I before remarked, the city lies more than a mile 
from the river, near the foot of the mountain ; but it is 
separated from the latter by a branch of the river, whicli 
makes the site of the city in flict an island. Over this 
branch stands an arched stone bridge, and below it the 



ES SIO U T. 163 

picturesque ruins of an older one similar to it ; while im- 
mediately after crossing the bridge commences the ab- 
rupt ascent of the mountain, which is filled with tombs 
and grottoes. From the river to the city the road is 
raised some feet above the level of the plain, which is 
overflowed at high Nile. The approach by this curving 
route is very picturesque, and the appearance of the city 
is, in all resj^ects, more beautiful than any thing I have 
seen in Egypt. Fifteen or twenty mosks lift their grace- 
ful minarets among groves of palms ; and the private 
houses of the city, which are built in much better style 
than in Cairo, present an appearance that is refreshing to 
the eye so long accustomed to mud and crude brick. 

Es Siout occupies the site of the ancient Lycopolis, 
"the City of Wolves," so called from the worship, by the 
ancient Egyptians, of the god to whom the wolf was sa- 
cred, and a consequent respect to the animal, evinced by 
the immense number of them found mummied in the 
catacombs among the hills. Of the ancient city little 
or nothing now remains, and of its ancient inhabitants 
no memorial, except their emjoty tombs, which darken 
the mountain-side like melancholy eyes looking over the 
plain that once gleamed with art, and arms, and wealth, 
and magnificence. Sometimes, indeed, an industrious 
Arab, mindful of the value which is set on the bones of 
his dead predecessors, excavates a new tomb, and dis- 
lodges the occupant who has slept so many thousand 
years in its gloomy silence. But this is not often, and 
most travelers who have visited the catacombs of Es 
Siout record the sight of wolves prowling among them, 
and Mohammedan funerals in the cemetery below, as the 
only things worthy of record that they saw from the hill. 

We saw the funerals, but no wolves. Perhaps those 
who have been before us have seen foxes, which we 
did see, and mistook them for wolves ; or possibly they 



164 EMPTY TOMBS. 

did see wolves, which are not so very uncommon on 
the Nile. We rode rapidly through the city. The 
bazaars Avere very busy, and the people were apparently 
less accustomed to the sight of a Christian than those in 
other cities of Egypt, for they crowded around us as 
children around a menagerie, so that at times the cawass 
had difficulty in clearing our passage. On the hill we 
paused awhile to survey the magnificent view over the 
plain, and then entered the Stabl Antar, the great tomb 
of some unknown grandee of the old time, whose dust 
was long ago scattered on the Nile. 

It is an immense chamber, cut in the rock, having a 
lofty doorway opening out on the side of the mountain. 
The vaulted roof of the room is nearly or quite fifty feet 
in height, and from this chamber arched passages lead in 
various directions, now nearly filled with sand and the 
crumbling stone of their roofs. 

Into one of these passages I crawled on my hands and 
knees for two hundred feet, where it spread out into an 
immense chamber, but I could not stand upright any- 
where in it. Under one side of it there was a lower 
chamber, into the roof of which some rude hands had 
broken an opening in former years, and around it lay 
dead men's bones and the relics of ancient humanity. 
My feet crushed them at every step. I held my candle 
down in the chasm, and could see indistinctly the bottom 
ten feet below. I let myself down, and dropped, safely 
indeed, but with a fearful rattle of bones around my feet. 

The spoiler had been here long ago, nor was there any 
evidence who, or how many, had slept out the centuries 
here in darkness, nor when their slumber was disturbed. 
There was evidence, indeed, of nothing, save only that, 
somewhere in God's great universe, there are souls, 
spirits of light or gloom, who once wielded these bones 
for earthly uses, and who now know nothing and care 



HAUNTING SPIRITS. 165 

nothing for their fate. Perhaps this is not so. In fact 
it does violate one of our dearest fancies — call it belief, 
for I believe it — that the dead do linger with somewhat 
of affection around the clay homes they once inhabited, 
and best love the flowers that spring from the dust 
which was once their own. If so, what ghostly com- 
panies are in this valley of the Nile ! for here there is 
little trouble in finding their bodies. In other lands 
they pass into grass, and trees, and all the mutations 
that are the course of nature; but here, in black hideous- 
ness, they lie in rocky sepulchres, millions on millions, 
the dead of two thousand years of glory such as no na- 
tion before or since has equaled ; and could we but 
speak into visible existence their haunting spirits, what 
room above this narrow valley would there be to let the 
moonlight through their crowded ranks ? What maidens 
would sit on w^hite rocks over the burial-vaults of lovers ! 
what mothers, in Avhite-robed sorrow, would bow their 
heads over the forms of beloved children ! what angel- 
watchers would be seen at head and foot of countless 
fathers and friends ! 

We ate our lunch in the large room, spreading our 
carpets in the centre, where w^e could look out across 
the valley and feast our eyes with the glorious view. In 
the foreground was the city ; beyond, its groves of 
palms, and then the lordly river, on which the only 
visible flag was our own — the only memorial before us of 
home. While we ate, the cawass and ten or a dozen at- 
tendants, men and boys, sat outside the doorway, and 
one of them chanted to the others a chapter from the 
Koran. It rang in the vault of the room, and, closing 
our eyes, we could imagine ourselves in a cathedral of 
Europe, so priest like was the sound. 

Lunch over, I left the ladies and climbed to the top of 
the hill, looking into a hundred tombs on the sides of the 



166 MORS ^QUO PEDE. 

I'ocky terraces, and finally crossing the summit, where I 
descended into a wild ravine, the habitation of desolation 
itself. Here, musing as I walked, I started a fox from 
his hole in some recess of a tomb, and as he dashed down 
the side of the hill I sent a ball after him. It did not 
stop him, though it killed him, for he went a hundred 
feet down and fell into the ravine, while the sound rang 
through the rocky chasms with a hundred echoes that 
might well have startled the sleepers under those gray 
hills. Descending to secure my game, I returned to the 
party by a path around the hill, and came upon a crude 
brick ruin, which may be Christian or possibly Roman. 
It was remarkable only for the abundance of scorpions 
which were in the walls, and I killed a dozen within a 
minute, perforating two of them with a thorn for ex- 
hibition to the ladies, who had heard much of them, as 
common in Egypt, but who had never yet seen any. 

I found them still sitting in the doorway of the Stabl 
Antar, looking out on the valley view, and on a mourn- 
ful procession that carried a dead man to the burial-place 
in the sand near the foot of the hill. The loud cries of 
the mourners, mingled with the chant of the bearers, 
came up to us with peculiar effect. We sat silent in the 
broken entrance of an ancient prince's tomb, to watch 
the burial of the poor fellah, and wonder how many days 
the wolves and jackals would let him repose. 




(5. 

Fkom the hill above Es Siout we obtained one of the 
finest views of agricultural Egypt, that the country offers. 
I have already spoken of the simple method of cultiva- 
tion. Here we began to learn the nature of the crops of 
Egypt. 

Sugar-cane began to abound, and above here cotton 
was plenty. At Es Siout as indeed throughout Egypt the 
great croj) is corn, doura and wheat being most plenty. 
Doura is of two kinds, and but two. The millet, growing 
one large ear on the top of the corn-stalk, and the Doura 
Shaniee^ or Syrian doura, as it is called, Avhich is our or- 
dinary Indian corn. The latter is of poor quality as to 
the yield, but is sweet, and makes excellent meal. The 
antiquity of the millet, or native doura, is great, as is evi- 
dent from the monuments, where we find it often rep- 
resented in farming scenes. It is not, however, to be 
supposed that these are the only products of Egyptian 
soil. Beans grow in great quantities, luj^ins and lentils 
abound, and immense fields oi bamia^ the edible hybiscus, 
(sometimes called ocre), are found near all the large 
towns. Onions abound, and a large bulbous root, known 
as the glioulghas^ or oulas^ is used as a substitute for 
the potato, which does not flourish here. 

There is but one form of tool for hand use by one man 



168 L AT AKE A. 

that I have seen in Egypt. It is a species of hoe, but 
more like a broad pick, very heavy and unwieldy, known 
as the gedoora. It is in fact a carpenter's adze, and is 
used as ax, hammer, hoe, rake, spade, and shovel. An- 
other form of hoe or scraper, used for making the small 
squares which I have described, is a flat piece of board, 
with a handle held by one man, and two ropes held by 
two others, who draw it while the one guides it over the 
ground. Thus three men do less work than one would 
do with a good tool. 

Threshing is done, as of old, by the oxen treading out 
the grain, and it is winnowed in the wind. Some instru- 
ments are in use to assist in this work ; but they are 
simple and rude, and but little advantage is derived from 
them, most of the natives preferring the simpler process. 
I wish a thousand Yankee farmers could be in Egypt for 
ten years, and I believe it would be the garden of the 
world. 

We took a shorter path down the hill than that which 
Ave had ascended, and made some heavy plunges over 
steep places, where two Arabs to a lady and a third to 
the donkey were hardly suflicient to keep them safe from 
accident. But the foot of the hill w^as safely reached at 
length, and we trotted rapidly across the bridge and into 
the city again. 

Before returning to the boat we paused in the bazaars 
to make some purchases, and especially to replenish our 
stock of pipe bowls, which had become low. 

Forever to be remembered are the chibouks of Egypt, 
and the tobacco called Latakea, from the city that was 
the ancient Laodicea, not the Laodicea once celebrated 
for the Christian Church, but its namesake in Syria. 
The chibouk, O my friend ! is not very different from 
the pipe that you and I used to smoke in college days, 
when we had reeds bored, some six feet long, and 



AN AMERICAN BABY. 169 

rested the bowl on the other side of the room. It is but 
a long stick with a clay bowl for the tobacco, and the 
wealth of the owner determines the elegance of the orna- 
ments. Th» amber mouth-piece is a necessity on an 
eastern chibouk, and on this are set jewels of every de- 
scription. The stick itself is common dog-wood, or 
cherry, or jessamine; and as the j)ipe-maker is always at 
hand, and will bore a stick in two minutes at any time, it 
is not uncommon for a host to have branches of roses or 
other plants loaded with fragrant blossoms bored for 
pipe-sticks, and handed to his guests fresh from the gar- 
den. Es Siout is celebrated for its manufacture of pipe- 
bowls, whence come the best in Egypt; and besides 
these, the workers in clay make many small affairs — 
match-boxes, cups, and plates, vases, and like articles, 
which are curious and even beautiful in appearance, and 
with which we loaded ourselves as we returned to the 
boat. 

On our way back we met a party of Franks whom, on 
approaching, we with pleasure recognized as our mis- 
sionary friends whose boat we had passed on the first day 
out from Caii'O. 

It was a keen i^leasure to meet American faces in such 
a spot, and the sight of an American baby, born in Cairo 
indeed, but no less American for that, in the streets of 
Es Siout, is a sight that Upper Egypt does not often fur- 
nish to the eyes of a traveler tired of gazing on the 
miserable, squalid, and filthy scarahcei^ that are called 
children in Egypt. The missionary boat continued in 
company with us as far as Es Souan, and I shall hereafter 
describe our parting with them in the moonlit gorges of 
the cataract. 

Near the landing was a brick yard, which attracted our 
attention, as had numerous others in Egypt. 

The manufacture of brick in the land of bondage will 



lYO BRICK-MAKING. 

always be an interesting subject of investigation to trav- 
elers. 

It was not common among the ancients to burn brick. 
It is no more common now. It is almost incredible, to 
one who has not visited this country, that immense ruins 
remain of buildings and walls, composed entirely of these 
unburned brick — mere Nile mud sun-dried — which date 
quite as far back as the time of the children of Israel. 
Large structures remain, of which every brick bears the 
name of Thothmes III., the supjDosed Pharaoh of the Ex- 
odus, and he who is incredulous of the genuineness of 
these may convince himself by visiting Egypt, where he 
may turn hundreds of them over with the toe of his boot, 
and read the ancient legend. 

The making of brick, in those days, was much more of 
a business than now, for the great population of the coun- 
try doubtless required a constant supply of building 
material, and the mud Avas probably then, as now, the 
chief article in use for this purpose. But aside from this, 
kings built pyramids of brick, which yet stand, and inclos- 
ures of temples, and residences for priests, and city fortifi- 
cations, and all the other massive structures for which 
other countries use wood and stone. There was, there- 
fore, employment enough for the miserable sons of 
Israel. 

Doubtless the modern process of brick-making is 
similar to that then in use, and a brief explanation of 
the method, which we saw here and often elsewhere 
along the river, will serve to make the history of the 
Israelites mere intelligible to many readers. The mud 
of the Nile is the sole article now in use for Egyptian 
house-building, and this is either roughly plastered up in 
mud walls, or shaped in the form of brick, and dried in 
the sun. 

I passed by some men who were building a tomb. It 




^nn^^ 



Figs. 4, 5, 1. Carrying brick and returning. 

Figs. 7, 9, 12, 13. Digging the clay or mud. 

Figs. 14, 15. Fetching water from the tank. 

Figs. 3, 6. Taskmasters. 

Figs. 8, 16. Making bricks with a mould. 

Figs. 2, 10, 11. Collecting and carrying mud. 



CHILDREN OF ISRAEL. l73 

was made of crude brick, and they paused in their work 
to make their bricks, which was done by preparing a bed 
to hold water, into which they threw mud, and, over all, 
large quantities of cut straw. This they trod into the 
mud with their feet ; and when the whole was thoroughly 
mixed, they took out large lumps with their hands, which 
they dexterously shaped into bricks, and laid down to 
dry. At another place I saw two men at the same work, 
with only this difference, that they held in their hands a 
rude mould, into which they thrust the mud, and from 
which they almost instantly shook out the brick, and left 
it to dry in the sun. The tenacity of the Nile mud 
almost passes description ; and until one has his foot in it, 
he can not fully understand it. That a similar process 
was used by the ancient Egyptians, and probably by the 
Israeli ties, we are not left to doubt. We are fortunate 
in an illustration of the ancient manufacture, copied by 
Wilkinson from a tomb at Thebes, which is known there as 
number 35, and of which I shall speak fully when describ- 
ing Thebes. On the wall of that tomb we find all the 
process of brick-making, from the gathering of the mud 
to the drying and counting of the tale. 

Of course great interest has been felt in this tomb and 
representation, very many persons supposing the captives 
here laboring under the lash to be Israelites. This, how- 
ever, is not the case, as appears from various reasons, of 
which the style and character of the faces, the color of 
the hair, and eyes, and beard, and the name of the cap- 
tive people given on the tomb, are sufficient. 

As I sat at my table writing at midnight that night I 
was startled by the flashing of briUiant lights on the bank, 
and looking out saw Latif Pasha coming from his palace, 
on the way to his dahabeeh, which lay a few rods astern 
of ours. Twenty or thirty glaring meshalks, each one a 
furnace of flame, on a long pole, glared on the white wall 



174 THANKSGIVING. 

of the palace, and on the boats at the shore, as he came 
out, attended by a guard of not less than two hundred 
soldiers. He rode a white horse ; and catching sight of 
me at the cabin window, waved a graceful bow as he 
passed on. 

A steamer was waiting to tow his boat. He had been 
detained until this late hour. As the steamer turned 
her wheels, he commenced firing a salute, and as I had 
some thirty odd barrels loaded, I began a reply. Every 
one else on the Phantom was sound asleep, except Abd- 
el-Atti, and he re-loaded as fast as I fired. So we kept it 
up till the pasha was far down the river; and I could 
hear the faint sound of his guns from miles away in the 
still air of the Nile. 

The next morning was Thursday, November 29th. 
We knew very well that it must be Thanksgiving day in 
some of the States at home, and we had tolerable cer- 
tainty that it was so in New York and Connecticut. As 
we were to leave at noon, our American friends accepted 
an invitation to breakfast with us, and we made our 
Thanksgiving feast at about the time that you were 
sleeping your hardest in America. 

And with the day came thronging all the memories 
that hallow that day. Who has not pleasant, who is so 
happy as not to have sad memories of the annual feast ? 
What table is full, without one empty chair ? 

In my Nile boat I sat down alone at sunrise to watch 
the coming of the day on this strange land ; and with his 
coming I seemed to have new light poured on the dim 
and distant past, by which I read the story of my first 
affliction over and over. 

How oflen have I thought of him here, my boy-com- 
panion, my guide, my brother, counselor, friend ! It was 
always the saddest thought I had in connection with this 
visit to the East, that he had died without seeing it. I 



MEM OKIES. 175 

could not bring my mind to the idea that he has seen a 
city whose foundations, in adamant and gold, surpass the 
splendor of the Jerusalem toward which I travel. But 
since I have come here — since I have looked up into 
these skies, whose deep blue beauty and unfathomable 
glory seem to bear the memory of the days when they 
received our ascending Lord into their radiant depths — 
since I have breathed the east wind from Bethlehem, 
and begin to see clearly my pathway to the cross and the 
tomb of our Master and Saviour, I say now I reahze that 
he whom I so loved in boyhood, whom I have so mourned 
in secret in all my years of wandering life ; whose lips 
have whispered to me a thousand times in the solemn 
nights — that he has seen, with clearer eyes than mine, 
the grandeur of Egypt, and the olives of the hills of Jeru- 
salem. 

Did I not tell you once, my friend, that I thought the 
sky must be lower down over the Holy Land than else- 
where, from the crowding thitherward of the footstej)S of 
the angels, and that heaven must be nearer there than our 
cold western clime ? It is so, I think ; and already I am 
where the arch is lower, for I never felt so near him as 
here. He sleeps — not where we laid him then, but where 
we laid him last, on the forest hill, near our great city, in 
the congregation of the dead. He does not hear aught of 
the long, loud roar of the city, the tramp of the thousands, 
the sounds of warring, wrangling life there. He hears 
not that, but he did hear me, as the morning sun rose up 
above the Arabian desert and poured his flood of light 
on this slavish land — he did hear me praying for a bless- 
ing on the 'old folks at home' on that Thanksgiving 
morning, and I heard his voice, too, from the deep sky. 
It was not till the sun was far up, and the sounds of 
Arab Hfe were heard on all sides of me, that I lost the in- 
fluence of that morning reverie. 



I 7 G A M O \ K L 1* O S T . 

The coolness of these Arabs is amnsing. It was not 
enough tliat we should oecupv the viceroy's steps with 
our boat, but our men erected tlieir poles on lines at the 
top of them in front oC the palace gates, and all manner 
oi' clothing, unnient'uMiahle articles of ladies' and gentle- 
men's apparel, >\ ere floating in the wind before the door 
oi' the governor of U j^per Kgypt, doubtless much to the 
editication of the ladies of his hareem, who had an oppor- 
tunity of studying Christian styles of dress and American 
costumes. Nor Mas this all. One-eyed Mustapha, the 
cook's servant, killed a sheep on the steps themselves, 
and when 1 went out to see what was going on, I found 
the Arab hound actually skinning the animal before he 
was dead. 1 was strongly inclined to have him tlogged 
till he understood the meaning of Haying alive. 

The mails of Kgypt go by a curious sort of post. All 
Egypt is on the Nile, as every one knows, and one lino 
of mail service up and down the river goes through every 
city and village from Cairo to Es Souan. This line is cut 
into sections, and on each section is a foot runner, who 
goes over his course three or four times a day, back and 
forward, meeting the next runner at each end of his sec- 
tion, and passing along from one to the other any letter 
he may receive. Thus no mail-bag is made up, but letters 
are passed singly. I sent my letters to the local governor 
at Es Siout, to be posted in this way; but he had orders 
to take special care of me and my wishes, and forthwith 
despatched an express with them. This is the method 
with all government letters. They go by dromedary, 
crossing the desert and avoiding the long bends of the 
river. It was somewhat strange to follow with my im- 
agination those letters on their wanderings, and I sat that 
evening thinking of the dromedary carrying an Arab 
charged with those precious words of ai^ection, crossing 
the desert back of the lofty hills of Aboufayda, guided 



DROMEDARY EXPRE88. 



177 



by the stars as he hastened northward. In what wild and 
dark pass of ilia mountains he might lie down to sleep, 
who could tell? What howling wolves or fierce hyenas 
would follow his steps, who might know ? On what sandy 
plain, in what Arab tent or hut of fellah, might they rest ! 
What moonlights would look down on their swift course 
across the desert — what hot suns would weary the carrier 
before they reached the city of Victory I It was some- 
thing to have a dromedary express despatched with one's 
letters, hoping only that the envelopes would be kept at 
home in some safe place, that I might look on them and 
endeavor thereby to learn something of their eventful 
travel. 




8* 



16. 

JLife ^loFig fl]e fjibeir. 

The bread was ready. Have I or have I not mentioned 
that the object of a stay of two days at Es Siout was to 
give the crew of the boat an opj^ortunity to bake bread, 
which is their sole article of food, and which is always 
renewed at this point, and again at Esne ? 

The Nile boatman is siii generis. There is no other 
race of men in the world like this. They live a misera- 
ble life of hard labor without enough pay to be able to 
save a farthing, and yet they seem to be always happy. 
Their songs make the night musical, and all day long, at 
oars or the tow-rope, they go chanting and singing as 
cheerfully as if they received thirty instead of three dol- 
lars a month, and were well fed and clothed, instead of 
having to feed and to clothe themselves out of this mis- 
erable pay. Their food is but the poorest sort of bread, 
baked and broken into pieces and dried on deck in the 
sun. A heap of several bushels of it always lies on the 
cabin deck, and this is boiled in Nile water, making a sort 
of mush or soft mass, which the men surround three times 
a day, and eat with their hands, dipping out of the one 
wooden bowl, which is their sole possession in the shape 
of plate or dish. 

At Es Siout they stopped, as I said, to renew their sup- 
ply. This would seem to be an easy matter. But it is 



PELICANS. 179 

not so easy. They arrived at eight in the morning, and 
went instantly to purchase wheat. This they took to a 
mill to have ground. When ground, they took the flour 
to the baker's, where they mixed the bread themselves, 
and then handed it over to the baker, who is in fact only 
a baker, and not a maker, of bread. At twelve at noon 
on the next day the bread had arrived on board, and we 
sailed from Es Siout, and were now fairly on the upper 
Nile. 

The dom palm-tree now appearing on the shore, changes 
the hitherto uniform aspect of the palm groves, and the 
shadoof poles seem to grow more abundant. The irri- 
gation of the land is kept up by steadfast, hard labor, and 
it is remarkable that no pumps or other improved hy- 
draulic machines are used in Egypt. No improvement 
has been made on this in three thousand years. I have 
no doubt that the banks of the Nile present now in many 
places the exact asj^ect which they presented so many 
centuries ago. 

At evening of the next day we were under the cliff's 
of Sheik Herreddee, whereof the tradition saith that a 
serpent resides there, gifted with miraculous powers to 
heal all manner of diseases. It would cure a blind man, 
could he but have a momentary glimpse of the splendor 
of the hill in the Hght of a setting Egyptian sun. This 
was the last night of the autumn, and the winter came on 
us next morning right gloriously with a flush of gold in 
the east, and the full-orbed splendor of the sun, and an 
air balmy as June, and a sky that tempted one heaven- 
ward. PeUcans began to be plenty. That morning we 
shot two, and in the course of the day half a dozen geese 
and as many ducks. We made no count of the pigeons 
that we shot ; they were innumerable. There was one 
day, when we were at N egad d eh, that we shot three hun- 
dred and six, which we distributed to our neighbors in 



180 CROCODILES. 

Other boats, giving our men as many as they could eat 
for three days. 

All along the river game began to abound, and croco- 
diles were frequently seen on the sand-banks. I shot at 
several, as all travelers must do ; but I killed none, as all 
travelers must say. There was one which I came very 
near to killing. Had he waited for me, I should have hit 
him. He was sunning himself on a bank, and I crawled 
quietly toward him ; but when I got there, he was not 
there. The trochilus^ the bird celebrated as the watching 
friend of the crocodile, who is said to warn him of the 
approach of enemies, flew before me with a loud cry, and 
perhaps alarmed him. I can not say that I verified the 
story of this bird's habits and friendship for the huge 
water monster, but I have no doubt that in this case he 
did act as ancient and modern writers say he is in the 
habit of doing. But he also acted precisely as he and a 
thousand like him have done every day that I have been 
on the Nile, and I am quite certain that if there had been 
no crocodile there, he would have gone along before me 
in the same way, with the same sharp, shrill cry. 

As we approached Mensheeh, I had walked along 
the shore ahead of the boat, and on reaching the village 
met Suleiman Aga, the local governor, taking a walk 
with his old uncle on the bank. He Avas apparently 
delighted at seeing the face of a stranger, for he said 
he led a life of imprisonment in his village, and was 
glad of any relief to its monotony. He walked up the 
bank w^ith me, and when the boat came to the land 
near the upper end of the village, he came on board 
and spent an hour with us. While we were lying here, 
our friends, the American missionaries, who were lying 
near us, had a difficulty with their servant, who was 
an impertinent scoundrel, and whom it became necessary 
for them to discharge. The governor begged hard to be 



VIRTUE OF A FIRMAN. 181 

allowed to thrash him into resjoectability, but to this, of 
course, our friends would not consent. I have seldom 
seen a more disappointed man than was Suleiman, after 
sitting for an hour and hearing the fellow complain of his 
master, when he was not permitted to put on the bastinado. 
It is a luxury to some of these governors to thrash a 
man ; and it is even related of the Defterdar, Mohammed 
All's son-in-law, that he often whipped men to death for 
his amusement. But this is not all. It is also a luxury to 
the men oftentimes to be whipped, if one may judge from 
the headlong manner in which they rush into the neces- 
sity of being punished. " You may give me a hundred 
if these eggs are not fresh," says the fellah, and the clerk 
of the market breaks three spoiled eggs in succession, and 
down goes the fellah and gets his hundred, with fifty to 
boot. 

A roving letter of credit on the Nile is a marvelous as- 
sistant to one's traveling comforts, and at the same time 
affords much amusement in the way of incident. I was 
not a little amused that same evening at Mensheeh by 
overhearing a conversation on deck between Abd-el-Atti 
and the sheik of the village. When we left Cairo, among 
other articles of boat furniture we were particular in 
ordering a good cat ; but we were sent away with two 
worthless kittens, both of which found their way into the 
river within the first week after sailing, and we repeated 
the order to provide another. It seemed that Abd-el-Atti 
had directed one to be brought down to the boat, and 
the sheik, who very naturally didn't want to be bothered 
about it, was protesting that there was no such animal in 
the town — no, not a kitten, not a piece of the skin or tail 
of a feline animal. 

The war of words grew furious, and at length the 
dragoman rushed into the cabin for the firman, and in- 
finite was my amusement to see the government seal ex- 



182 DOLCE FAR NIENTE. 

liibited, and condign punishmewt threatened if the cat 
were not forthcoming. It had the desired effect, and the 
sheik instantly and silently departed, and an hour later a 
row and general outcry on deck called me out to see five 
cats, black, w^hite, and yellow, each led by a string, and 
all now tangled in an inextricable knot, fighting, spitting, 
and uttering all manner of Arabic sounds, brought for us 
to select from. 

We took three ; and I may as well pause to record 
their fate. The yellow one took a flying leap from the 
boat to the bank, about thirty feet, struck heavily, and 
fell back into the water. I have forgotten what was the 
immediate impulse which induced this catastrophe, but 
the cat was worthless. The next, a small black kitten, 
met with an imhappy fate. We found a dead rat in a 
closet, and, from the appearance of Miriam's Indian rub- 
ber overshoes, we concluded he died of caoutchouc. He 
lay on deck dead, when the kitten caught sight of hira, 
and made a dash at him, seized him by the neck, and 
swung him up and over the rail, and, presto ! rat and cat 
fell overboard together, and we swept on, leaving them 
to their fate. The last one was a furious wretch, with 
the eye of an arch devil, and one day in Nubia I loosened 
the rope by which he had been tied, and gave him a 
chance to run. The last I saw of him he was crossing the 
desert twenty miles below Abou Simbal. 

I have said but little thus far of our manner of life on 
the river, preferring rather that it should be guessed at 
from what I might write. But I find that nothing I have 
yet said will convey any idea of the perfect dolce far 
niente of the Nile boat. The day is one long dream of 
delight, the night a paradise of beauty. We never weary, 
yet we do nothing. We have books, but we do not read. 
We have paper, but not the courage to write. If there 
be no wind, and the boat was tracking, we walked along 



PIPES OF TOBACCO. 183 

the shore, and shot whatever we could find. Game is 
plenty everywhere, for there is almost no one in Egypt 
to disturb it. If the wind sprang up, a hail from the boat 
called us ; we jumped on board, and were off, perhaps 
for only a mile or two, when we agam tracked and again 
walked. We eschewed all manners of dress. It would 
be impossible to say what style or national costume I 
wore, unless it was a remote approximation to the French 
blouse-man : I Avore but a thin j^air of linen pants and a 
blue shirt — nothing else, on my word — that is, when the 
weather was warm. On my head, I always wore the tar- 
bouche. With this dress it w^as not difficult to follow the 
example of the Arab sailors and jump overboard at any 
moment, or wade in deep water after game. Sometimes 
I followed the men at the tracking-rope, and crossed the 
branches of the river which came down around islands, 
wading where it was up to my waist ; and, never thinking 
of changing my clothes, I pushed on through villages and 
fields, to the manifest astonishment of the natives, who 
were not accustomed to see a Howajji so nearly on a 
parallel with themselves in dress. Oftentimes I was far 
in advance of the boat, and then, if near a village, I 
usually sat down in front of a coffee-shop — which is very 
certain to occupy a prominent point on the river-bank — 
and while the ghawazee sang and danced, and the natives 
smoked silently and looked on, I took the first pipe 
offered me, and curled my legs under me as well as I was 
able (I soon began to have a knack that way), and waited 
the coming of the boat, while the fumes of the beledi 
tobacco ascended in the still sunshine. How many pipes 
of tobacco I have smoked in such spots in Egypt ! 

At other times, I would push the reis from his place, 
which is the top of the kitchen on the extreme bow of 
the boat, and, as this was altogether the best look-out, 
Ferraj would bring me cushions from the diwan and my 



184 HAJJI MOHAMMED. 

chibouk, and, with my gun close at hand, I smoked and 
watched the river and the shore. From this ^^oint I have 
gotten not a few shots at crocodiles that lay basking in 
the sunshine ; and if I did not hit them, it was worth 
the shot to see the si^lendid start the fellows made as they 
heard the crack of the gun, and how they leaped into the 
air and the water with a grand flourish of the tail and a 
tremendous plash. Hajji Mohammed, the cook, was a 
great hand for a shot at a crocodile, and never sent word 
to the cabin that he saw one, but on the instant that 
he got sight of him, whether near or far ofi", sent a bullet 
after him, if it were half a mile. He wasted an awful 
amount of lead and powder, and got nothing. But not 
seldom I have gotten geese and duck from my seat on 
the kitchen, and Halifa, a capital swimmer, stood always 
ready to swim off and bring them to me. 

It is vain on the Nile to attempt late sleeping in the 
morning. I was usually on deck at break of day, and 
almost always on shore before sunrise. The mornings 
are delicious beyond expression, and the beauty of the 
dawn is only equaled by the brief evening twilight. But 
early as I was out, I was never ahead of my prince of 
cooks, who sent me a cup of coffee the instant he heard 
my footstep, and then went to w^ork at breakfast, which 
he made a meal fit for the most fastidious of tastes or ajD- 
petites. 

The twilight always found us on deck, and there we 
remained till midnight. There is enough to see in air 
and sky, w^hether it be or be not moonlight. There were 
sofas on the cabin-deck, well-cushioned and perfect, and 
here we lay, looking up at the stars. We talked little, 
and when we did speak it w^as mostly of the dear ones at 
home, of the pleasure they would have with us there — 
never of the glorious past, the fallen grandeur of Egypt, 
the march of history, the trampling feet of time. Of all 



H ASS AB O . 185 

those we would think — think — think — till thought became 
soul, and we were bodiless, and the moon and stars looked 
down on a silent, verily a phantom boat, floating slowly 
along the river of Egypt, surrounded by the princes and 
priests of Osirian days. 

The blackest and the best-looking man on the boat was 
Ilassabo, the mestahmil or steersman. One evening, I 
was writing a letter at the table. It was late, all was 
silent outside, and I supposed every one was sleeping, 
when I was startled by the abrupt entrance, rather say 
rush, into the cabin of Hassabo, supported on either side 
by Ferraj and Hassan, the two cabin servants. Black 
as he ordinarily is, Hassabo was now blue with fright or 
pain, I could not tell which. Blood was running from his 
finger, which Hassan and Ferraj held in their hands, 
grasping it as if they thought it would get away from 
them. From something that he muttered about fish, I 
understood that he had run a fish-hook through his finger, 
and I proceeded to wash the wound and put on some 
common plaster. In the midst of this, Hassabo, who was 
by far the most i^ious Mussulman on the boat, was con- 
stantly muttering, " Allah ! Allah !" and trembling and 
growing weaker, until suddenly he turned from me with 
a bolt toward the door, which was open, and threw the 
contents of his stomach on the deck. Unfortunately a 
deck plank was uj), and, as he rushed out, he tripped in 
the hole thus left and went down on deck with a tre- 
mendous fall just as he heaved a second time ; and then 
the poor fellow lay frightened and badly hurt in the 
scuppers. I soon learned the cause of his fright, for I 
saw that the wound was a trifle. Hajji Mohammed, the 
cook, had invited Hassabo to an extra good supper, and 
the poor fellow, glad as they all are of a chance to get 
any thing better than sour bread to eat, had accepted the 
invitation, and overfed himself at the kitchen with sundry 



186 NILE FISHING. 

relics of fowls and mutton. Now Hassabo was rigid in 
his observances, and always washed before and after eat- 
ing, so that when he had tinished his supper he stepped 
into the small boat, which lay alongside, to wash, and, as 
he dipped his hands in the water, a huge fish seized his 
finger. Ilinc illce lachrymce. The fright and the over- 
feedimr were too much for him. 

I had fishing-tackle for the river ready on deck at all 
times, but had as yet hooked nothing, having been un- 
able to get any idea from books or persons of the habits 
of Nile fish. The natives take them in a way peculiar to 
the river. They have a rope, two hundred feet long, 
armed with large hooks at every few inches, which is 
sunk by weights, and dragged up or down the river. By 
chance they sometimes hook a large fish in this way, and 
only by chance. 

This accident of Hassabo's gave me a clew to the ways 
of at least one species of fish, and in ten minutes I was 
diligently trolling for him, and in ten more I had him. 
He struck my hook as a blue-fish would strike, from be- 
low, with a sharp, swift blow, turning on his tail as he 
took hold, and carrying away my line with him, which I 
gave him for six fathoms before I struck him. I needed 
not to wait, as it afterward apj^eared. He had swallowed 
the hook instantly. I had him fast, but that w^as very 
little indeed toward getting him into the boat. He was 
a strong swimmer, and tried my tackle severely ; but it 
had held heavier fish than he in American waters, and 
landed them, too, and I did not give him up when he had 
fifty fathoms of line out, and was pulling straight down 
the river. Jumping into the small boat, I cast her loose 
myself and drifted down stream, helped not a little by his 
pulling. It was nearly an hour before I killed him, and 
during that time I had never for an instant thought of 
where I was or whither I was drifting. And now I found 



A LONG PULL. 187 

myself alone on the Nile, the night dark, the moon not 
yet risen, my boat four miles away, a strong current 
against me, and an uncommonly lively fish raising the 
devil in the bottom of the boat. I had no time for con- 
sideration. Every minute was a loss, and carried me 
further away. I sat down to the oars. I remembered 
all the heavy pulling I had done in my life as I leaned to 
those clumsy sticks which they called oars, any one of 
which will outweigh two long boat sweeps. I thought 
especially of two scenes in my past life ; one when I rowed 
against a fierce gale ofi" the north point of Block Island, 
and ^he other when, with Miriam wrapped up in oil- 
clothes and India-rubber, seated in the stern of my boat, 
I pulled up from the ferry-stairs at Niagara to the foot of 
the American Fall, and across to the milk-white basin of 
the Horseshoe. But in neither of these instances, said I 
to myself, did I hear these hungry jackals that are bark- 
ing on the shore to-night. Then I sang, and I made the 
Egyptian darkness ring to Yankee songs, until it occurred 
to me that I was inviting the Ababdee scoundrels, who 
are all along that part of the river, and always awake 
at night, watching for chances to rob passers-by on the 
water ; and so I kept myself quiet, and pulled steadily, 
and counted stars. 

There were never half so many visible to my eye in the 
heavens. That night, and every clear night since I have 
been in Egypt, I have seen eleven stars in the constella- 
tion of tlie Pleiades, and one night I saw twelve dis- 
tinctly. But I did not pause long to count stars. I 
looked northward and pulled southward with a will. 
In an hour I saw the red light which we always carried at 
the end of the high yard, and in half an hour more I 
was pretty much used up, alongside the boat, where 
every one was sound asleep. No one knew of my 



188 A DEVIL. 

lonesome adventure until they saw the fish lying on deck 
the next morning. 

Administering to the diseases of the crew became an 
every-day matter. Hajji Hassan, the cook's mate, a tall, 
bony Arab, had never before been in the upper country, 
and the sun effectually skinned his face, so that he was as 
miserable an object in apj)earance as one will meet in a 
year, and, I have no doubt, w^as equally miserable in feel- 
ing. His head, bones, back, all parts of him, and a num- 
ber of other parts, that he imagined he had, ached 
unendurably, as well they might. I appUed cooling 
lotions (I believe that is the phrase), and the next morn- 
ing he was much better, only needing a mild dose of med- 
icine to complete the cure. My stock of drugs was small, 
for we eschew the use of them ; a Seidlitz powder would 
fit the case tolerably well, and I gave him one, explaining 
before he took it the effervescing character of it. But he 
did not understand it. And as he held one glass in his 
hand, while I poured the acid in from the other, telling him 
to drink quick, he raised it to his lips, but the foam touched 
his nose, and he was astounded beyond measure. He 
dropped the glass as if he were shot, cried out, Efrit! 
JEfnt ! — "A devil ! a devil !" and no persuasion could in- 
duce him to try another. I substituted the half of one 
without the acid, which answered all the purpose. 

That same evening I shot, for the first time, a bird that 
the Arabs consider almost sacred. It is much like our 
curlew, in size, shape, and habit ; but its pecufiarity is 
that it utters a note that the Arab understands to be a 
distinct address to God : Ul moulh illaJc^ La shareeJc 
illak — " The universe is thine ; thou hast no partner !" 
This cry is remarkably distinct and musical, and we heard 
it all the evening, in the twilight, across a waste of halfeh 
grass, which marked the position of a forgotten city. I 
know no picture on all the earth's surface more striking 



THE CURLEW. 



189 



than that of this bird, standing erect, in the gloaming, on 
a mound that covered the palace of a long-forgotten prince, 
and uttering, on the desert wind, that simple and sublime 
tribute of praise to Him who alone knew the history of 
the dead that lay below. 




IT. 

When on shore, two days after passing Girgeh, in the 
morning I came on the ruins of a village which was evi- 
dently Arab, and whose destruction was manifestly vio- 
lent. Such village scenes are not uncommon in this 
miserable land. !N"ot infrequently the inhabitants of one 
of these mud heaps — they can hardly be called any thing 
else — rebel against the authority of the viceroy. More 
foolish or mad conduct could not be imagined. Entirely 
destitute of arms, they have no hope of success, and their 
fate is inevitable ; yet village after village, galled by the 
enormous loads of taxes imposed on them, resists and is 
destroyed, and such ruins as this mark their sad history. 

I asked an old man, who was at work near the ruin, 
who destroyed this place, and when ? He answered, 
" Ibrahim Pasha, two years ago." Now Ibrahim Pasha 
rendered his account to an avenging God some eight or 
more years ago, and the old man was, of course, mistaken, 
in his date or the person. Ibrahim Pasha had a way of de- 
stroying villages, a sort of passion that way, and I supposed 
it possible that the people might attribute every thing 
of the kind to him as a sort of matter of course. There 
is a town not far from New York where, it is said, on 
good authority, that the people at the last presidential 
election supposed they were voting for General Jackson, 



IBRAHIM PASHA. 191 

find I fancied this was much the same way. I learned 
afterward that it was the date only that was wrong. This 
was one of the monuments of the terrible Ibrahim, and 
yet I have no doubt the verdict of impartial history will 
be that the same Ibrahim was one of the greatest men of 
this age. But I contrasted this ruined village, these de- 
serted houses, fallen roofs, burned thatches of doura, and 
silent streets, with the gorgeous tomb in which he lies at 
Cairo, surpassing in its splendor of marble and gold any 
work of modern art that I have seen or expect to see ; 
and I felt — who could avoid it ? — a shudder at the thought 
of the meeting beyond the grave of the spoiler and the 
slain ! 

As I was walking by the men on the shore, one morn- 
ing, shortly before reaching Gheneh, an incident occurred 
which, while it illustrates the brutal character of an Arab 
who has a little power, serves also to introduce more par- 
ticularly than heretofore to the reader's notice, Reis Has- 
sanein, as stupid and poor a specimen of a Nile captain as 
could well be found on the river. 

I do not yet know what is the process of promotion on 
the river, or what stages a man should go through to be- 
come captain or commander of a dahabeeh. This much I 
know, that there are fourteen men on our boat, any one 
of whom is more competent for the office than the man 
who fills it, and we have been often tempted to hand him 
over to a governor, and take another in his place. 

Some difficulty occurred at the tow-rope. I do not 
know the nature of it ; the first that I saw of it was 
when Hassabo, the steersman, by the direction of the reis, 
turned the boat to the land so as to allow the latter to jump 
on shore, with a nabote, a large club, in his hand, where- 
with to make a rush on the row of men who were hauling 
on the tow-rope, and strike two of them, bringing one to 
the ground. Had this one been any other man, I do not 



192 ABD-EL-KADER BEY. 

know that my sympathies would have been so strongly ex- 
cited, but it was Mohammed Hassan, who was altogether 
the best man on the boat, and the regular attendant of 
the ladies when they walked on the shore. 

At first I thought his knee-pan broken, and I had a 
strong notion of administering summary punishment on 
the reis, then and there. He was himself much fright- 
ened, and on my advancing to the scene he retired, leav- 
ing Mohammed to me. I had him removed to the boat, 
where his wound was attended to, and it fortunately 
proved to be but a bad bruise. Nevertheless, the reis 
was left to understand that on our arrival at Gheneh, we 
should hand him over to the governor, to determine 
whether it was proper for him to beat the men in that 
way ; and in the mean time he was forbidden to punish 
them with any similar weapons, under penalty of a broken 
head himself This filled to overflowing the cup of Reis 
Hassanein's afflictions, and thereafter he was a milder 
and a better man. 

We reached Gheneh in the afternoon, and I proceeded 
immediately to pay my respects to Abd-el-Kader Bey, 
the Governor of Upper Egypt, and next in rank to Latif 
Pasha, to whom I had letters. 

I have met many men of high rank in Egypt, and have 
been fortunate in making the acquaintance of several 
of the most distinguished officers of the viceroy, but 
I have seen no one with whom I was so well pleased, 
or whose acquaintance I was so glad to have made. The 
letters would not have been necessary. I found an ac- 
complished gentleman — a Turk, indeed, but affable, polite, 
and dignified ; a pleasant man in conversation, a good 
soldier, and a grateful protege of Mohammed Ali, whose 
name he almost revered. 

I found him in his audience-room, a large chamber, 
forty feet by forty, with a high ceiling and a stone floor. 



THE DIWAN. 193 

Across the upper end of the room was a diwan, covered 
with rich cushions, and this also extended down one side; 
while opposite was a row of chairs, of eastern pattern, 
heavily gilded. He led me to a seat on his left, at the 
upj)er end of the room, and gave me a chibouk of mao-ni- 
ficent pattern. The stick was carved ebony, and the am- 
ber mouth-piece was loaded with diamonds. Four youno- 
Nubian slaves, handsome in countenance and elegantly 
dressed in the Nizam dress, brought coffee and sherbet, 
and then retired, one standing on each corner of the car- 
pet to await further orders. They were manifestly favor- 
ites, and a fifth, who had been absent on some errand, 
entered while the governor was talking, and walking di- 
rectly up to him, took his hand, kissed it and j^ressed it to 
his forehead, and retired to the corner of the room. 

Persian carpets covered about one-fourth of the room, 
across the upper end, and the next fourth was covered 
with Nubian mats, the remainder being bare. No one 
stepped on the mats with slippers on his feet, but every 
one who approached the governor left his slippers on the 
stone floor, and advanced over the mats as far as the edge 
of the carpet, but no further unless the governor gave 
leave. My visit did not interrupt the usual course oi 
business, but he continued to affix his seal to papers that 
were presented, and to hear petitions and administer just- 
ice as usual. He turned from me with a polite excuse 
each time, completed his business rapidly, and resumed 
the conversation, which was chiefly on political subjects, 
with all of which he was more familiar than any man I 
have met in Egypt. 

One poor wretch who had deserted from the army was 
brought before him by his soldiers, and he turned to look 
at him. There was a world in his eye, but he did not 
give the order then. If the power of life and death had 
not been taken from the governors by recent changes, I 

9 



194 W A S I T r A N C Y ? 

have little doubt tliat I should then and there have heard 
— what I have so often, and always with deep emotion, 
heard in America — the sentence of death passed on him. 
The man held up a bleeding hand, from which he had 
lately cut two lingers, hoj^ing thereby to render himself 
unlit for military service. I believe I have already re- 
marked that this is so much the custom in Egypt, that 
nearly every man has lost a linger or an eye. But this 
did not avail him now, and he was remanded to await ex- 
amination. On my return down the river I jDassed two 
days at Gheneh, and of the pleasant friendship which I 
then established with Abd-el-Kader Bey, and of the favors 
he did me, I shall have occasion to speak fully at another 
time. He now forwarded letters to every inferior gov- 
ernor on the river, informing them of my progress, and 
gave me copies to deliver in case of needing any assist- 
ance, and so I left Gheneh and approached Thebes. 

That night the wind Availed around us, and December 
voices came flying on it. The starry sky was like the 
skies of our home-land, but the air was pure, soft, and 
delicious to the cheek, though the blast Avas terrible. 
Once there came on it, from down the river, a long, Avild 
cry — a slniek of women in agony. It Avas the death-cry 
of some poor Avretches whose boat Avent down in the 
tempest. Our men took the small boat and went to their 
i.scue, but in A'ain. They found the floating evidences 
of a lost boat, but nothing more. 

And in tlie night I heard tlie sounds of a distant land 
come to me distinctly on the gale. You may laugh at 
me ; you may say I Avrite it because others have said 
and Avritten the same ; you may tell me I dreamed it. I 
care not Avhat you say, but I know that on that stormy 
Saturday night I heard the church bells of my old home 
sounding over the tossing waves of the Nile. Yes, I 
heard them. I, too, laughed Avhen I read in the books 



WAS IT FACT? 195 

of travels of others that they heard such sounds on the 
desert, but I did not laugh now, for I have learned the 
truth of those sounds risjht well. 

I was sitting just here where I now sit, writing a letter 
home, to be mailed when we should reach Luxor. Pro- 
found silence for a moment rested on every thing. There 
was a lull in the w^ind. The flow of the river was swift 
and noiseless. Miriam was sleeping. All the others on 
the boat were sleeping. It was midnight, I say ; but far 
away, in that j^leasant land that I call home, it was just 
sunset, and the hour of prayer. I leaned my head for- 
ward on my hands a moment, and j^erhaps — I Avill not 
say it was so, but perhaps — perhaps there were some 
tears in my eyes ; for on a winter evening like this, in the 
long-gone years, I saw the light of life fade out of eyes 
that I loved, and deep gloom take its place forever, and 
so, perhaps I wept as I remembered it — and then I heard 
those bells. They sounded sweetly — clearly, and I sprang 
to the door of the cabin, and out into the starry night, 
and leaned my head forward to listen to the melody. 

Soft, soft and sweet they came over the swift river ; 
clear, rich, and full. There could be no mistaking them. 
I might have doubted, but the tones were all the same. 
There was the Presbyterian bell, deep, stern, and solemn 
in every stroke ; the Episcopal church bell, more musical 
and silvery ; the old Scotch church bell, that was forever 
chanting the Ps^alm, " They that go down to the sea in 
ships" — all clear and loud ; and then the wind arose, and 
they went away over the desert, and I heard them far off, 
and then no longer. 

There was an hour when, before I left America, I stood 
w^ith a friend — the best friend of all my years of life, the 
companion of boyhood, youth, and mature years — and 
talked with him of the same subject. 

He had been in Egypt, and had once heard that same 



196 



THE OLD FAMILIAR SOUNDS. 



sound, and with all the calm thoughtfulness of his nature, 
he believed that the bells did verily sound in his ears 
with their own metallic notes. We were speaking then 
of Eothen, and the same story as related by its author, in 
his own inimitable style ; but I had little faith then in my 
friend or in Eothen. I have more now. You may tell 
me it was the Availing over a dead man in a village along 
the bank, or you may say that it was a creaking sakea, or 
a palm-tree moaning in the wind, or whatsoever you 
please to believe it. I am content to know that my ears 
heard the church bells, and since my feet might not tread 
the accustomed path, my heart went there with those 
that trod it, and the old altar had a worshiper there that 
none knew who surrounded it that evening, but whose 
worship was sincere and fervent, though the waters of the 
Nile were under him, and the skies of Egypt, starry and 
clear, over his head. 




18. 

Jo J.0 b e ^ Si^K 

It was one of those glorious nights of which I have 
spoken, such as no land knows but Egypt, and no river 
but the Nile. Strangest of all things, in the economy of 
nature, is this waste of glory on the degraded race that 
are unable to enjoy it, or to thank God for it. Night 
after night, for a thousand years, the undimmed moon 
and stars have seen themselves reflected in the river, 
have silvered the hills and mellowed the otherwise hag- 
gard face of nature ; and no one has thought of its ex- 
quisite beauty, its holy splendor, except, perhaps, some 
lonely traveler who beheld in it the melancholy memorial 
of ancient grandeur, or a dying Bedouin, who looked 
longingly up to the deep beyond, and wondered whether 
he should hold a star in his hand when he should have 
shaken off his clay bonds. 

I was seated on deck alone, for all the rest of the party 
were sleeping, and I was revolving in my mind all the 
traditions and legends of the stars that I had heard in 
former years. 

Pleasantest of them was that Avhich I somewhere read 
or heard long ago, that some of the wandering tribes be- 
lieve that the stars are torches, held in the hands of the 
beloved dead, who light with soft rays of love the path- 
way of the living over the desert hills of life. And 



198 THE YOUNG SHEIK. 

thereby hangs a story which in long gone years I heard 
or read, and which I now beUeve must have had some 
foundation in truth, so exactly are all the particulars in 
accordance with the truth of scene and character. 

In a valiey among the hills of the Arabian desert, 
where a spring of water kept living a few palms to re- 
lieve the otherwise barren aspect of the visible world, 
lived a small family or tribe of Bedouins, consisting of a 
hundred persons or thereabouts, possessing ten or a 
dozen black tents, and as many horses and camels as 
men. From this point they made their excursions over 
the plains, and sometimes returned with strange goods 
for such a place. Costly silks, rare and splendid jewels, 
the richest cashmeres, were common articles in their 
household furniture ; and he who saw the outer ajipear- 
ance of the dark camel's hair cloth, Avhich kept the sun 
off from their heads, Avould never have dreamed of the 
magnificence and elegance within those low huts. We 
will not pause to ask whence these treasures came. 

There was in this tribe a young man of higher mental 
structure than his comj^anions, who was the son of a 
sheik dead long before, and Avho had been educated in 
the City of Victory. Education, by-the-by, in this j^art 
of the world has a peculiar meaning. It does not consist 
in the learning that is hidden in books, in amassing stores 
from the brains of the dead sages, in drawing curious 
lines on paper, and proving strange and incredible things 
to be true by mathematical calculations. It is little more 
than teaching the boy to read and write the language of 
the Koran, and then teaching him the Koran so well 
that he will not need to read it to be able to quote any 
chapter or verse. And, besides the Koran, there are 
hosts of unwritten traditions in the Mohammedan re- 
ligion handed down from lip to lip, wliich are always 
part of the finishing accomplishments. In all these the 



THE OLD THIRST. 199 

young Sheik Houssein was learned, but he was not satis- 
lied with these. He knew nothing of that hackneyed 
story — liackneyed by the school-boys and school-girls of 
ancient Rome, and ever since — of an indescribable lono-- 
ing after " the far-off unattained and dim ;" but he felt 
within him a thirst that no fountain of Arabia could 
allay — a thirst that many have felt, and none have 
quenched until their lips were wet with the waters of 
the river of the throne ! His world was a small one, 
and he had searched it through. From the Nile to the 
Euphrates, from Akaba to the Bosphorus, in Mecca, and 
in Jerusalem, he had looked with earnest eyes, had 
sought with feverish lips, and sought in vain. 

Do not expect me to describe what it was that ho 
sought. He did not know; how should I? He but 
knew that his life was not all that it should be ; that he 
had capabilities beyond the narrow boundary of a Be- 
douin's wanderings ; that there was something more in 
existence than the fray of the desert, the midnight de- 
scent on the unarmed village, the dastardly robbing of 
the peaceful caravan ; something more in death than the 
sensual paradise of the Prophet, and the traditions of his 
fathers. 

There is a moment, in every man's existence, on which 
turns his future destiny. There are many such moments; 
for oftentimes life hangs on a thread, and if the thread is 
not cut it requires but a touch to change the whole di- 
rection of the future. But in every man's life there is at 
least one, and in his it occurred thus : 

It was not often in those days that travelers crossed 
the great desert. Few Europeans came to Egypt, and 
fewer still went on to Sinai. But there was a time when 
Houssein was called to Cairo to meet a noble party of 
western travelers, a gentleman and two ladies, who were 
making a pilgrimage to Sinai and the Holy Land, and 



200 A WILD LOVE. 

who wished his protection in crossing the desert. He 
saw but the gentleman, and readily engaged to perform 
the desired service. 

It was not till the party had left the Birket-el-Haj 
that he met them, where they were encamped, by moon- 
light, on the sand that stretches away to Suez. As he 
sprang from his mare, before the tent-door, he was 
startled by such a vision as he had never seen before, 
but thought he had dreamed of in his waking dreams. 

She was slight, fair, and, in the moonlight, jDale as a 
creature of dreams. Was this one of the houris of his 
fabled paradise ? ISTo ; he rejected the thought if it rose. 
There was no spot in all the heaven of Mohammed fit for 
an angel like this. Away, like the sand on the Avhirl- 
wind, like the clouds before the sun, like the stars at day- 
break — away swept all his faith in Islam, and, in an 
instant, the Sheik Houssein was an idolater, worshiping, 
as a thousand greater than he have done, the beauty of 
a woman. Perhaps he might have quenched his thirst 
for the unknown at some other fountain, but this was 
enough now. He had found that wherewith to fill the 
void, and he was content. 

Love was a new emotion, a sensation he had never be- 
fore experienced, and it satisfied him. Did she love 
him ? That was a question which never occurred to him. 
\Yhat did he care for that ? He was not seeking to be 
loved. He was looking for employment for his own soul, 
and he had found it, and that was enough. 

The tradition goes to describe his long crossing of the 
desert. How he lingered among the hills of Sinai ; how 
he led them by Akaba and Petra, and detained them 
many weeks in the City of Rock ; how the fair English 
girl faded slowly away, for she was dying when she came 
to Egypt ; and how, Aveary, well-nigh dead, he can-ied 
her to the Holy City, and pitched their tents by the 



THE END OF ALL. 201 

mountain of the Ascension. And all this time he watched 
over her with the zealous care of a father or a brother, 
and the quick heart of the lady saw it and understood it 
all. And sometimes he would try, in broken words, to 
tell her of his old belief and his ideas of immortality, and 
she would read in his hearing sublime promises and glo- 
rious hopes that were in a language he knew nothing of, 
but which he half understood from her uplifted eye and 
countenance. 

How he worshiped that matchless eye ! He worshiped 
nothing else, on earth or in heaven. 

It was noon of night under the walls of Jerusalem, 
and in a white tent close by the hill on which the last 
footstej^s of the ascending Lord left their hallowing 
touch, an English girl w^as waiting his bidding to follow 
him. 

Outside the tent, prone on the ground, with eyes fixed 
on the everlasting stars, lay a group of Bedouins, and 
apart from them a little way their chief, silent, motion- 
less — to all that w^as earthly, dead. A low voice wdthin 
the tent broke the stillness of the night, but he did not 
move. A i^oice was uttering again those words, of which 
the sound had become familiar to him already, the Chris- 
tian's prayer. 

" Sheik Houssein !" 

He sprang to his feet. It was her voice, faint, low, but 
silvery. The tent-door was thrust aside, and as a hand 
motioned to him to enter he obeyed. 

She lay on the cushions, her head lifted somewhat from 
the pillow by the arms of her sister ; her brother, who 
spoke the language of the desert well, stood by her 
as the young sheik approached. His coofea was gathered 
around his head ; only his dark eye, flashing gloriously, 
was visible. She looked up into it and whispered ; he 
half understood her before the ^^'Ol•ds came through her 

9* 



202 ONE MORE STAR. 

brother's lips, as she told him the story of Calvary and 
Clirist, and the cloud that received the King and Saviour 
returning to his throne. 

It were vain to say he nnderstood all this. He only 
knew that she was telling him of her hope ere long to be 
above him, above the world, above the sky ; and his act- 
ive but bewildered mind inwrought all this witli liis 
ancient traditions, and having long ago rejected the 
creed that did not teach him that she was immortal, as 
he fell back on the idea that the immortals had somewhat 
to do with the stars, and as he lay down on the ground, 
close by the side of the tent, listening for every sound 
from within, he fixed his eyes on the zenith and watched 
the passing of the hosts of the night until she died. 
There was a rustling of garments, a voice of inex- 
pressible sweetness suddenly silent, a low, soft sigh, the 
expiration of a saint, and at that instant, far in the depths 
of the meridian blue, a clear star flashed on his eve, for 
the first time, its silver radiance, and he believed that she 
was there. 

For three-score years after that, there Avas on the des- 
ert, near that group of palm-trees and lonely spring, a 
small turret built of stones, brought a long distance, stone 
by stone, on camels. And in this hut, or on its summit, 
lived a good, wise man, beloved of all the tribes, and es- 
pecially followed by his own immediate tribe, who, with 
him, rejected Mohammed, and worshiped an unknown 
God, througli the medium of the stars, and especially one 
star, which he had taught them to reverence above all 
others. 

And at length there came a night when the wind was 
abroad on the desert, and the voice of the tempest was 
fierce and terrible. But high over all the sand-hills, and 
over the whirling storms of sand, sedate, calm, majestic, 
the immutable stars were looking down on the plain, and 



A DYING MAN. 203 

the old man on his tower beheld them, and went forth oti 
tlie wind to search their infinite distances. 

That night, saith the tradition, another star flashed out 
of heaven beside the star that the Arabs worshiped, and 
the Sheik Houssein was young again in the heaven of his 
beloved. 

Let us leave him to the mercy of the tradition, nor 
seek to know whether he reached that blessed abode. 

All this story, that I have perhaps wearied you in re- 
lating, i^assed through my mind that night as I lay on 
deck on the softly-cushioned sofa, and looked out of the 
cape of my Syrian cloak at the sky. In the midst of 
my endeavors to recall such parts as had faded from my 
memory, I was roused by a deep groan near me. 

One of my crew, a man from the upper country, black, 
but with finely-cut features and straight hair, had been ill 
from the time of our leaving Cairo, and steadily rejected 
any Christian remedies. One case of bilious fever I had 
managed with my small stock of medical knowledge and 
medicines, and had cured. But Abd-el-Kerim refused 
medicine, j^referring to die a natural death, and I did not 
much blame him. I was of opinion from the first that his 
case was ho2:)eless ; and as these Arabs lay all cures to 
their own charms, and not to our medicine, but charge 
all deaths on the unlucky adviser, and call it poisoning, it 
is quite as well to let their diseases alone, unless one is 
tolerably certain of being able to effect a complete cure. 

He was dying. Delirium had set in with high fever 
three days before, and two of the men had been detailed 
to watch him constantly. It was as much as they could 
do to keep him quiet until that afternoon, when the fever 
abated, and he began to sink. I had forgotten him en- 
tirely during my reverie, and was startled, and even 
alarmed, by the groan. He lay on his back, wrapped in 
cloaks and blankets, which we had provided for our own 



204 SMOKE AND DEATH. 

uses, but yielded readily to his greater necessities. I 
have seldom seen as fine a countenance. The Nubians 
are not all like the colored population of America, but 
many of them have finely-chiseled Grecian faces, with 
high foreheads, and sharply-cut outlines. He was a man 
of thirty-five, stout and athletic in body — in fact, Hercu- 
lean when he was well, but he was w^ak as a child now. 

Religion he had none — positively none. Of the Mussul- 
mans four fifths, or five sixths, are infidels. On my boat, 
which had nineteen professed Mussulmans on board, there 
were but three who prayed. 

This man had never shown the slightest knowledge of 
Moslem fixith or doctrine ; and what were his thoughts at 
this moment of departure I have no idea. He died like a 
dog, and his companions treated him as such. It was a 
strange scene, to say the least of it, that on the deck of 
the Phantom^ at midnight. Stretched at full length, his 
dark face glistening in the moonlight, lay the dying Nu- 
bian. Around him sat four of the crew, his companions. 
The rest were forward, sleeping. These were smoking a 
goza, a w ater-pipe, made of a cocoa-nut shell, in which 
they smoked tombak, breathing enormous quantities of it 
into their lungs, and ejecting it in clouds. I stood at his 
feet, looking dowm on his huge form, and w^ondering, as 
usual, as I shall never cease to w^onder, as men will won- 
der till they know more than here and now, that life 
could leave such splendid machinery mere dead clay. 
He breathed slowly, and with difl[iculty. His eyes roved 
from face to face of his companions wdth a sort of wdstful 
expression or longing for life, or shrinking from the terri- 
ble unknown into which he was j^lunging, and then he 
looked up at the sky. But he saw nothing there. To 
him the stars were but lights, the moon a greater light ; 
and he had no thought of them as I had at that moment, 
as marks along the way his swift soul would travel to the 



DEAD AND BURIED. 205 

place of judgment. No hoj^e of immortality was in his ^ 
eye or heart ; no looking beyond the gloom. The swift, 
dark river that flowed below him was to him no emblem : 
he saw nothing on the moonlit bank that spoke of heaven 
or God, but shuddering fearfully, he lifted his stout arms 
twice into the air, clenched his fists, muttered in a hoarse 
voice, " Allah !" and was gone. 

His companions smoked on in silence, passing the goza 
from mouth to mouth, and I stood and looked at them, 
and at him, and the night hastened on apace. I could 
not sleep below that deck ; so wrapping closer the cloak 
around my face, I lay down on the sofa and slept and 
dreamed. 

I awoke at sunrise. The deck was clear. The dead 
man was gone. I asked for him, for this hasty resurrec- 
tion surprised me. He was buried. They had taken 
him at daybreak to a burial-place near a village, dug 
his grave a few inches deep, and left him for the wolves 
and jackals. I little thought to see such a scene on the 
Nile. How much less one that I saw later, when I felt 
the quivering pulse fail in the white temple of a fellow- 
Christian, who had lain down to die in the great temple 
of Luxor, and with my own hands closed forever his eyes, 
whose last gaze was on the magnificent columns of the 
great Amunoph. But of that hereafter. 




i9. 




Jl]c 6il[j of t\ Jlin]i)uO fi^fe^. 

It was a quiet Sunday morning when we 
readied the great city of Egypt, Thebes of a 
hundred gates. We had tracked from about 
dayliglit ; and after tlie sun rose I took my 
position on the upper deck to watch the appear- 
ance of the hills and the banks of the river. 
It was not difficult to imagine ancient Thebes, 
still mighty and magnificent, guarded by those 
lofty mountains. It was more difficult to imagine 
Thebes gone, dead, departed, buried in caverns 
and unknown sepulchres of these dark ravines 

-:^, that come down to the water from among 

-! the rocky piles. I could more easily exj^ect 



to find a million men living in the valley that opened 
luxuriantly before me, than I could befieve that un- 
known millions lay in the earth below, or the rocks 
around it. Nowhere in all Egypt do such rugged hills 
embrace so beautiful a plain, and nowhere is there a 
spot so well suited for the capital of a great nation. 
The mountains are here, and the river flows between 
them, and Memnon sits calmly on his throne, and looks 
over the plain and the river with stony eyes, unused to 
tears, and nothing appears to lament the dead glory. 
Not even the sun, not even the moon shines less biil- 



THEBES. 207 

liantly, less joyously, that kings and princes, matrons and 
virgins, wise and foolisli, weak and strong, are all alike 
dead in the past, dead in the valley, dead in rock-hewn 
sepulchres ; the palaces ruins, the temples ruins, the 
homes gone, the hearth-fires ashes long ago, the hearts 
of the men of Thebes dust — insensible, still, silent dust. 

I do not know that you understand what I am en- 
deavoring to express. It is, in plain language, this, that 
before approaching the valley of Thebes you can readily 
expect to find there a great city, but on seeing it a broad 
plain, level as subsidhig water can level it, and covered 
with corn and grain, you can not believe that it is the site 
of a ruined capital, once the wonder of the world for 
magnificence. There is nothing to indicate it. You ex- 
pect to find mounds, heaps of rubbish, or some of the 
usual marks of an ancient town. But there is nothins: of 
the sort, except immediately around Luxor and Karnak. 
Fields of waving grain, of lupins, lentils, and doura, or 
Indian corn, cover the flat expanse of the valley, broken 
nowhere by ruin, rock, or mound, except in these locali- 
ties, and excepting also the two colossi, who sit in lone- 
some majesty among the fields of green on the west bank 
of the river. That temples and palaces have been here, 
their vast remains indicate ; but those on the west side 
of the river are at the foot of the mountain, and not on 
the cultivated land ; and Karnak stands solitary on the 
eastern side, a majestic solitude indeed, among heaps of 
earth that may cover the floors of ancient habitations. 

In fact, I am induced to believe that Thebes never was 
a city of large population. It was, probably, a city of 
temples, possibly of colleges — an Oxford or a Cambridge, 
and a place to which men were carried for sepulture 
in holy ground. But I do not believe that any great 
crowd of inhabitants Avere ever found here. 

We saw, first of all the ruins of Thcbos, Ihe old temple 



208 THEBAN TOMBS. 

at Goornou on the west bank, and then the Remeseion, 
the colossi, and Medeenet Ilaboii, all distant ; and at 
length, on the east, over the high banks along which we 
were tracking, tlie obelisks and the lofty towers of the 
propylon of Karnak looked down on us. 

The valley of the Nile widens at this point. I have no 
means of comparing it with other places on the river, but 
it is as wide, I should imagine, as at any point above the 
Delta. On the western side the plain is from two to three 
miles wide, and on the eastern at least five, perhaps eight 
or ten. 

The mountains on the west are higher than at any 
other place in Egypt, and their character is so peculiar 
that no one can form a just idea of the appearance of 
Thebes until he understands this. 

I think I have before remarked that all Egyptian hills 
and mountains are absolutely destitute of vegetation. 
No shrub, or tree, or blade of grass takes root on their 
rocky sides. They are, in fact, only vast piles of rock, 
the sides being either precipitous or formed of the debris 
of the stone. The hills of Thebes are intersected by 
numerous ravines, which wind their way through them 
in almost cavernous gloom. Frequently the hills are 
nearly a thousand feet high on each side of these ravines, 
ascending by terraces of several hundred feet each. On 
the front of the hills overlooking the valley they show 
the openings of tombs, hundreds and thousands, while 
hundreds and thousands remain unopened. On these 
hills the eye of the traveler rests with more intense in- 
terest than on the ruins of temples and palaces, for there, 
during a thousand years of royal prosperity, the Theban 
princes, priests, and people, buried their dead, 

" And there the bodies lay, age after age, 

Mute, life-like, rounded, fresh, and undecaying, 
Like those asleep in quiet hermitage 

With gentle sleep about their eyelids playing ; 



TURF ON GRAVES. 209 

And living in their rest, beyond the rage 

Of death or life ; while fate was still arraying, 
In liveries ever new, the rapid, blind. 
And fleeting generations of mankind." 

It is always so. Men will turn their eyes from a palace 
at any time to look at a tomb, and in a landscape will 
forget the beauty of hill and forest to gaze on the white 
stones of a grave-yard. 1 remember well that once in 
my life I fell upon a grave in a grand old forest. The 
trees were lofty and majestic, and the sky, seen through 
their branches, was far away and deep, and winning and 
glorious. The voice of the mountain wind was musical, 
and the voice of a stream that wound its joyful way 
around that solitary grave was even more melodious. 
But I forgot the sky, and trees, and wind, and sat down 
among the dead leaves of the last autumn to hold com- 
munion with the unknown spirit of him who slept below. 
I did not know whether he was Indian or white man ; 
nay, I did not know that he was a man, saving only that 
I did not think any human being would have laid a 
woman there to sleep alone in the forest through all the 
days and nights of the dismal years ; but I knew by that 
strange consciousness that every one lias felt, but no one 
can describe, that human dust lay in its kindred dust be- 
low, and I 2)aused to look on the turf that hid it. 

The turf! It is comforting when the cold is comin'; 
over one, when the eye is dimming, the hand fxiling, I'.ie 
lij^ trembling, the heart hushing — it is comforting, I say, 
to think that one will be laid under green sods, whereon 
violets may grow, and that this vile dust of humanity may 
have a resurection in roses or myrtle blossoms. There is 
no such comfort here. No grave in Egypt has turf on it, 
nor grass, nor flower, nor tree, nor creeping plant. It is 
but sand, or the decaying dust of ancient houses in which 
they laid their dead, and the winds sweep over them, 



210 ISLAMIN THE SULKY. 

find mounds increase to gigantic size or wholly disappear 
in one night's blasts. I do not think I could sleep here 
at all. I do not think that my dust Avould consent to 
minojle with this soil. Those ancient Thebans doubtless 
felt all this, for I have less faith than formerly in the idea 
that they wished to preserve their bodies till they should 
come to reclaim them. The Nile plain was no place to 
lay their dead. It was annually flooded by the river, 
and no man would be laid there. The sandy desert was 
a wild spot, and hyenas could find their way into deep 
graves. It was horrible to think of it. Only the rock 
was left, and the rock they chose, and cut their tombs in 
it, and wound their bodies in spices and gums, and slept 
well. Yea well. Blessed is he who can find a grave in 
Egypt that will last him a century ; more blessed far if it 
last him three thousand years. 

We had ordered our letters to be forwarded from 
Cairo to Luxor, and Abd-el-Atti left us slowly tracking 
up the river, and hastened on to the village to get them 
for us. He was disappointed, and unwilling to see our 
disappointment, sent a messenger back to meet us, with 
intelligence that we had no letters, and on my word we 
thought but little of Thebes after that until we found* 
ourselves at the shore by the great temj^le of Luxor. 

We were scarcely at the shore when Mustapha Aga, 
the American agent, came down, and after him Islamin 
Bey, the governor or nazir of this section, a bad-looking 
Turk, ignorant and stupid, whom we received without 
much attention and left to smoke and drink coffee alone 
on the up23er deck while we strolled up to the temple. 
Perhaps this inattention on our part was the cause of his 
subsequent rudeness to us, but as it cost us nothing and 
him his governorship he had the worst of it, and it is to 
be hoped he learned better manners for the next time. 

The first idea that I received, when a boy, of the mag- 



TEMPLE AT LUXOR. 211 

nitude of the ruins of Egyptian temples was from hearing 
that one of them was so lavQ-e that a modern Arab villasre 
stood on the roof of it. I had not retained the locaUty, 
but the moment that I looked up at Luxor I recognized 
the ruin of which the story was told. Doubtless this was 
the temple, though afterward I found the same thing true 
of Edfou, and of one or two others, but they Avere small 
temples compared with this. 

Luxor, or El LTksorein — " The Palaces," is on the east 
bank of the Nile, and the ruins of its great temple rise 
among the crude brick and mud houses of the modern 
village. Nothing remains here of the ancient except only 
this temple. Karnak lies two miles from it on the north, 
but the fields between contain no memorials or relics of 
the city that once connected them. 

The temple, or those j)ortions of it which now remain, 
are on a line parallel with the main part of the river as it 
flows by them, but a branch or arm of the Nile, wliich 
flows around a large island above Luxor, comes into the 
main channel again here, and the rear of the temple is on 
this branch. The total length of the temple is about a 
thousand feet. The front was originally connected with 
Karnak ; how or when, it concerns not my purpose now 
to discuss. But the great entrance to the temple is now 
surrounded by the mud and brick houses of the inhabit- 
ants. Nevertheless they have had the decency, unknown 
in some places, to leave an open space before the great 
propylon, where the astonished traveler may pause in 
awe before the vast entrance, or lie down in the dust and 
look up at the obelisk and the huge towers sculptured all 
over with the representations of the valiant deeds of kings 
long dead and forgotten. 

But if any one were inclined to lie down there, let him 
be Avarned that it is a Coptic neighborhood, and fleas 
love Coptic blood and Christian blood of all kinds, and 



212 OBELISKS OF LUXOR. 

fleas arc plenty here. He will do Avell not to lie down, 
but to stand and rather break his neck with looking up 
at the obelisk and trying to read its large characters. 

Tlie other obelisk is gone to Paris. It stands in the 
Place de la Concorde, on a pedestal, whereon are graven 
in gilded letters the deeds of Louis Philippe, King of the 
French, and the old gray granite looks down scoffingly 
on the gilded lines and figures below. The remaining 
obelisk, solitary but stately, is far more grand and impos- 
ing in its appearance tlian its ancient companion, and 
rumor said that the Avandering obelisk of the Place de 
la Concorde was not to be allowed to remain in its pres- 
ent place. The view of the Arch of Triumph from the 
Tuileries is obstructed by it, and Louis Na})oleon loves a 
long prospect, especially when he can secure it by remov- 
ing monuments of the reign of his predecessor. It is sor- 
rowful to think that the stone had remained almost four 
thousand years on its base at Luxor, and now has begun 
an existence of changes. The next Lou4s Somebody will 
find it obstructing his view in some other direction. Noth- 
ing remains stationary in Paris. 

The doorway is guarded by colossal statues of granite, 
of which the heads only are above the earth. But these 
are highly polished, and enough is visible to show their 
former grandeur and beauty. Passing between these, 
you enter the doorway, and find yourself in a narrow, 
dirty street or alley, of the modern Arab village. The 
splendid columns which once flanked the court of the 
temple are yet standing, many of them, but the huts of the 
village inclose and cover them. Entering these miserable 
hovels, you find the women and children, with sheep, dogs, 
and goats, in promiscuous heaps, and all manner of filth 
and dirt around the sides of these half-buried columns ; 
whose glorious legends of ancient princes stare solemnly 
on the entering stranger, as if to ask him what hard 



MUSTAl'HA AGA. 213 

decree of fate luis led liini into tlie same prison in which 
they are doomed to darkness and obUvion. 

This court of the temple was about two hundred feet 
long by a hundred and seventy wide, and another propy- 
lon here opened into the grand hall or colonnade. The 
hovels are closely packed here, and the alley turns to the 
right, and again to the left, bringing you to the great 
pillars beyond. 

Up to this second propylon the temj^le was built by the 
second Remeses, the great Sesostris of Greek history, and 
the builder of almost all the most magnificent temples and 
palaces of Egypt. He added these portions to the older 
parts, which were built by Amunoph III., whose period 
was about 1430 b. c, and within the century after the ex- 
odus of the Israelites. Remeses II. was within a century 
later. I am now following Wilkinson's chronology. 

Passing through the second propylon, as I have re- 
marked, you would enter the great colonnade ; but this 
you are now compelled to avoid, and re-enter the temple 
at the great pillars, of which two rows, of six in each row, 
are standing. The earth covers their pedestals, and the 
columns themselves, to a height of perhaps twenty feet, 
and as much more remains uncovered, with the immense 
stone architrave on each side. 

These columns are among the largest known in Egypt, 
but they are small in comparison wuth those of the grand 
hall at Karnak. In the midst of these massive columns, 
stands the house of Mustapha Aga, the American con- 
sular agent, of whom I may be pardoned for 2:>ausing here 
to say something. 

Mustapha is getting to be an old man, but a better, or 
more capable one for his place and position, could not be 
found. There is no place in the East where a consular 
agent is more necessary than at Luxor. A large number 
of American travelers annually visit the place, and every 



214 M U S T A P II A ' S P A Y . 

one needs advice, assistance, and protection from the ra- 
pacity of dragomans, sailors, or Coptic antique dealers. 
Mustapha fiiltllls these duties admirably; and the only 
regret about it is that he does it gratuitously, receiving 
no pay whatever, except in the way of presents which 
travelers may think of giving him, and these are never in 
money, and therefore generally mere nothings. Ordina- 
rily they are Avine, and as Mustapha drinks no wine him- 
self, the stranger Avho leaves it is only sui)plying the 
others who follow him, for Musta[)ha gives it all away 
again. Can not this be improved ? The old fellow would 
be made abundantly happy by an allowance of five hun- 
dred dollars a year, and it is sincerely to be desired that 
our government miii^ht direct this to be made. I am 
confident that no American traveler on the Nile has 
failed to experience his hospitality and kind attentions, 
and I know that every one would join in a request of this 
kind to the government. I have paused to speak of him 
in my description of the temple because he is now a part 
of it, and from your boat you scarcely ever look up at the 
grand columns without seeing Mustapha seated on the porch 
of his house, between two of these massive pillars, under 
the gigantic architrave, quietly smoking his chibouk, and 
entertaining some friends, either foreign or native. 

His house is the most comfortable private house in 
Upper Egypt. It is all on one floor, and covers a large 
space. The halls are roomy and airy, the chambers pa- 
l)ered, dark and cool, the furniture plain and comfortable, 
while the grand front of ancient colunms gives it a more 
royal appearance than the citadel of Cairo. 

The remainder of the temple, after passing this colon- 
nade, is inclosed in or covered by the modern houses, 
and the rear chambers, the adytum, and the holy rooms, 
are still perfect, while on their roof stands a large part of 
the village. I shall not attempt any description of these 



A CHRISTIAN CHAPEL. 215 

various lialls, courts, and cliambers, which cover a space 
of nearly five hundred feet in length. One observation 
alone will suffice to convey an idea of the splendor of 
these buildings. Every stone in an Egyptian temple 
which exposes a surface to the eye, whether within or 
without the temple, is elaborately sculptured with pic- 
tures or hieroglyphics. No wall is without its legends 
and representations. Outside the temple on the lofty 
walls are often represented battle scenes elaborately 
carved, in which the builder shows himself as a victor, 
usually of gigantic size as compared with those whom he 
conquers. The same, or similar scenes, cover the inner 
Avails, on which are also found mythological representa- 
tions which are a puzzle to the student, and are likely to 
remain so forever. Of the minuteness and beauty of 
these sculptures no idea can bo given by description, nor 
would those who have not seen them be ready to believe 
that three thousand years have left them so exquisitely 
perfect as Ave now find them. 

The rear, or southern part of the Temple of Luxor, is 
divided into several apartments, each covered with" sculp- 
tures indicating its peculiar design. The roof of this part 
is now oceupied by the huts of the natives, and filth and 
vermin abound in the silent rooms beloAV. One of the 
rooms, now open to the sky, AA^as used in early times by 
the Christians as a chapel for the Avorshijo of Christ, and 
around it are the remains of their paintings on plaster, 
which covered and preserved the hieroglyphics on the 
stone Avails. This is the case with many of the temples 
of Egypt; and Avhile the early Christians defaced and de- 
stroyed much which they regarded as idolatrous and pro- 
fane, they have preserved much else by covering it Avith 
plaster and mud, Avhich being now removed, leaves the 
sculptures as fresh and clear as they Avere a thousand 
years ago. 



216 COUNTERFEIT ANTIQUES. 

Of the grandeur of the Temple of Luxor, no adequate 
idea can be formed, even by the visitor who stands among 
its ruins. From its great propylon, or from some por- 
tion of its massive walls, an avenue stretched away to 
Karnak, ornamented with all the splendor of ancient art, 
and guarded on each side by colossal rams, the emblems 
of the deity of Thebes. Of this avenue only the north- 
ern end remains, in ruhis, but majestic even in ruins, and 
a lofty gateway, of Ptolemaic times, closes it. Thus Kar- 
nak w^as, in some sort, a continuation of the Temple of 
Luxor, and, in fact, all the temples of Thebes were con- 
nected by avenues, and possibly by bridges, so that it 
was a city of temples. 

I left the Phantom and walked around the village, my 
footsteps dogged by twenty donkey-doys, and as many 
donkeys, each of the former hoping that I would grow 
tired and patronize one of them. At every corner and 
turn a Coptic scoundrel would produce a lot of antiques 
for sale, and I amused myself by asking prices. At 
Luxor rates. Dr. Abbott's collection is worth a million. 

O ! confident Howajji, beware in Luxor of Ibrahim the 
Copt, and on the western shore of Achmet-el-Kamouri, 
the Mussulman. Skillful manufacturers of every form of 
antique are plenty in the neighborhood, and these men 
have them in their employ, and sell to unwary travelers 
the productions of the modern Arabs as veritable speci- 
mens of the antique. Achmet is the chief manufacturer 
himself, and has a ready hand at the chisel. 

The manufacture of antiques is a large business in 
Egypt, and very profitable. Scarabsei are moulded from 
clay or cut from stone, with close imitation of the ancient, 
and sold readily at prices varying from one to five dollars. 
At Thebes is the head-quarters of this business. Still, no 
antiquarian will be deceived ; and it requires very little 
practice to be able in an instant to determine whether an 



SUNRISE ON MEMNON. 217 

article is ancient or modern. When the Copt finds that 
you do know the distinction, he becomes communicative, 
and readily lets you into the secret of his business ; and 
while he is confidentially informing you of the way in 
which the Arabs do it, and how this is modern and that 
is not, beware lest you become too trusting, and he sells 
you in selling a ring, or a vase, or a seal. He is a wily 
fellow and sharp, and he knows well how to manage a 
Howajji. 

A strong breeze from the northward was not to be lost 
on our upward voyage, and after one night at Luxor we 
pressed on. 

But I could not go without one view over the plain, 
and at break of day I went up the hill to the foot of the 
propylon towers of the temple, and looked up to their 
summit. There must be a way to climb them, and while 
I was looking for it, a bright Arab boy made his appear- 
ance and offered to show me. I followed him readily, 
and he led me through the propylon to the narrow alley 
already spoken of, and around the corner into a low door 
in the mud wall. This opened into a yard or court, full 
of sheep and doura, or corn-stalks, and passing through 
another like it, I climbed a mud wall and walked along 
this to the corner of the tower, which was somewhat 
broken. Climbing this some twenty feet and going around 
the end, I discovered an opening into the body of the 
tower, where, crawling in, I found a stairway, encumbered 
with huge masses of fallen stone, and up this I ascended, 
with no little difficulty, to the toj) of the tower. Here I 
sat and watched the coming of the sun. The Libyan hills 
were first lit, and the golden line of light came slowly 
down their rugged sides — down, down, until it reached 
the tombs that open to the east, and the Memnonium and 
Medeenet Habou, and then it touched the lips of Memnon 
and his old companion. I saw the red flash on the giant 

10 



218 PILGRIM FOOTPRINTS. 

head, and I bent my head forward to hear the sound of 
the saUitation ; but there was no sound — Memnon is vocal 
only in tradition. 

A peculiarity of the tower on which I was standing I 
have never seen noted by any travelers. Every stone on 
the summit is covered with footprints, cut more or less 
deep in the surface. By whom these were cut no record 
remains to tell. 

It has been supposed that they are the marks of pil- 
grim feet, but Avho were the pilgrims that thus recorded 
their accompUshed vows? Afterward I found similar 
marks on stones on the river bank in Nubia, but always 
on elevated bluffs, where perhaps pilgrims standing could 
catch a view of some far shrine. Sometimes they were 
simple parallelograms, two side by side, with four short 
marks at the end of each, to signify the toes of the foot, 
but oftener they were well- drawn feet, large or small, as 
if marked out around the foot itself. 

They are not the rude scratchings of the modern 
Arabs, or of those who drew the boats and animals that 
are found on the rocks of Nubia and elsewhere. That 
there was a design in their being placed here is evident 
from the number of them, and from their being only on 
the summit of the lofty tower, and only on the topmost 
course of stones. There are none below this. Was there 
any idea of the footsteps of angels here, or of departing 
souls, or of departing prayers ? 

It is not the intention of this book to record any of the 
results of study in Egypt, and I shall therefore pass en- 
tirely over that subject. As we remained at Luxor but 
one day, reserving a long visit for our return trip, the time 
that I had w^as, of course, too brief to make any examina- 
tions of places or things ; but I had informed myself pre- 
viously, as well as books and papers and charts could assist 
me, and after a hasty inspection of a few spots, I directed 



EXCAVATIONS. 



219 



the commencement of some excavations to be continued 
dm-ing my trip up the river. The governor, on my requisi- 
tion, furnished me with fifty men for work ; but, alas ! for 
Egyptian excavations, they had no tools of any sort or 
kind save only the fingers God gave them, or as many of 
them as each man had not cut ofiT. For I have before re- 
marked, that the natives are thus mutilated to save them- 
selves from the conscription. With their hands and palm- 
leaf baskets these fifty men might do as much in a day as 
five Irishmen with shovels and wheel-barrows, and their 
pay was about the same, being a piastre and half to each, 
or about eight cents American j^er day, making the whole 
pay about four dollars for the fifty. Placing them under 
the direction of Mustapha Aga, the worthy consular agent, 
and giving him a letter to the governor as my agent, I 
left Luxor to seek more remote antiquities. 





I tv 



20. 

We left Thebes with regret. I believe 

. ,, --T,,a that almost any one of us would most 

willingly have paused here and rested, 
going no further up the river. But there 
was much to be seen beyond, and it is best, as a general 
rule, to reserve all stoppages for the return trip, especially 
if the wind blows. 

We had no incidents of voyage between Thebes and 
Esne worthy of record. To us the most important was 
the supply of fresh vegetables and fruits, which w^e had 
from the garden of Mustapha Pasha, at Erment. We 
were two days between the two places. 

At Esne I awoke in the morning early, and walked up 
into the town, intending to see the bazaars only, and re- 
turn to breakfast. To my surprise, I found myself at the 
door of the temple, which is one of the most beautiful 
remains in Egypt, and I entered it. 

It is not my intention, as I have already said, to de- 
scribe the various ruins of Egypt as I see them. Books 
are already full of these descriptions. It will be enough 
if I succeed in giving a general idea of them, sufficient 
for the reader's convenience in following my personal 
adventures. 

Esne stands on mounds, the accumulated heaps of an 



TEMPLE OF ESNE. 221 

ancient city. Tlio temple itself is totally buried in these 
piles of rubbish, and the city is built over them, so that 
its former extent or appearance is now unknown. Only 
the portico remains, and this being some feet higher than 
other parts of the building, remained standing above the 
earth. A few years ago the visitor could walk into it, 
just under the roof, and see the capitals of the columns 
and the splendidly carved ceiling. Mohammed Ali, being 
one day at Esne, and having nothing better to do, ordered 
the excavation of this portico, and a thousand fellahs 
were set to work, with hands and baskets, to carry out 
the earth which lay between the columns, and find the 
pavement, which was thirty feet below. It has been in- 
sinuated that the pasha wanted a powder magazine, and 
that this, and not respect for antiquity, induced him to 
undertake this laudable enterprise. Be this as it may, 
the result was the exposure of one of the most beautiful 
buildings, ancient or modern, in the world. 

The earth in front remains at the old level, kept by a 
brick wall from falling into the inclosure. You enter a 
small yard or inclosure, among the houses, which stand, 
Avith their walls, not more than fifteen feet from the front 
of the temple, and passing along this narrow alley, de- 
scend by wooden stei)s into the excavated area of the 
portico, finding yourself then in an immense chamber, 
the lofty stone ceiling supported by rows of massive 
columns, and the walls and columns alike covered with 
a profusion of sculpture characteristic of the late period 
at which this temple was built. 

The light which comes in through the narrow space 
left between the cornice and the ground, greatly dimin- 
ished by the proximity of the houses, leaves a sepulchral 
rather than a " dim, religious" gloom within ; but to this 
the eyes at length become accustomed, and then the 
forms of gods and men start from the walls and salute 



222 MUMMIES. 

the stranger with their cold, cahn eyes. Strange figures, 
hideous forms of gods and sacred beasts, unknown even 
to old Pliny, are found here on the stones, and on the 
ceiling is a zodiac, with curious representations of the 
heavenly bodies. 

Three doorways, opening formerly into the chambers of 
the temple, are now closed with stone to keep out or in the 
earth on which the city stands, and we are left to imagine 
the secrets which the earth covers. Perhaps some national 
expedition may hereafter excavate these rooms, and show 
their treasures of legend and pictures to the world. 

The temple portico does not antedate the time of the 
Ciesars, and is therefore comparatively a recent aftair. It 
is a matter of chronological interest that possibly and 
probably these columns wore carved during the lifetime 
of Christ on earth, and perhaps while he was in Egypt. 

I came out of the temple after a brief visit, and hast- 
ened back to the boat to breakfast, after which I returned 
with the ladies. 

There were lying in the alley, or small yard of which I 
have spoken, five or six mummies, badly broken to pieces. 
They had been here for ten or fifteen years, being gov- 
ernment property, taken from the Arabs who had found 
them. The government monopolizes all antiques here. 
It was manifest that these were considered worthless and 
would soon be scattered, and I felt at liberty to investigate 
their condition and contents. 

But two proved to be of any interest. One was prob- 
ably a woman, doubtless of the priestly order, and from 
the same circumstances by which we ordinarily judge the 
age of a horse, I judged that she was young. One of 
her teeth, beautifully shaped, white, and perfect, lies now 
by me as I write, and I am wondering what kisses were 
pressed on them, what words of love escaped through 
them. 



PRIESTESS AND PRIEST. 223 

She lay in a coffin that had been elaborately painted, 
but the paint was now covered with mud and filth. On 
]-aising her body from its position, I found that she was 
laid on a bed of flowers' The bottom of the case was 
filled with them, worked in wreaths and garlands. There 
were more than a peck of them, lying precisely as they 
were laid when she was placed upon them, and I never 
felt more profound regret at the disturbance of a repose 
than that. If I had known the tomb from which she 
came, I would have been strongly tempted to carry her 
back, and close it up, and in some way forbid entrance to 
it thenceforth forever. As it was, I but laid her back on 
the wreaths of ancient leaves, dry now and dead as her 
name and memory, and turned to another of her compan- 
ions. 

He was a stalwart man, full six feet high, and the 
shawls in which he was wrapped were of rare and costly 
fabrics, decayed now, and worthless. Outside of all his 
wrappings had been a shawl of beads, not uncommon 
as an ornament of mummies. The beads were earthen, of 
various colors, blue predominating ; some of them long, 
such as ladies call bugles^ and others small. They were 
arranged in a diamond-shaped figure, the ccnti'e of the 
back being a large scarabmus. The scaraba^us, let me 
remark, for the benefit of the unlearned in Egyptian 
antiquities, is the common black beetle of the country, 
which was sacred to the sun, and was itself an emblem of 
that God. It became the most common form of relig- 
ious ornament, worn, perhaps, as some moderns wear a 
charm, and always buried with the dead. On the faces 
of the earthen or stone scarabtei are often found inscrip- 
tions — either the name of the king in Avhose reign it was 
made, or of the person, or of some religious object. Thus 
a scarabieus often determines the age of a mummy ; and 
the curious in this subject will be interested in Dr. Ab- 



224 SUMMARY PROCEEDINGS. 

bolt's collection, on seeing the small and beautiful niuni- 
niy of a temale Avhicli stands tlioro, to loarn that iVoni its 
broken case a scaraba>us fell, marked >vith the name of 
Thothmes III., the Pharaoh of the Exodus. 

I found the beads and the scarabaeus in a mass at his 
feet, but there "was no vestige of the threads that had 
formed the shawl. Gathering nearly a quart of them, I 
examined the localities of his feet and head and breast for 
other antiques. Alas ! feet and head were gone. Some 
plunderer like me, less scrupulous than I, had cut them 
otf and carried them away, and the breast — a huge fissure 
was where his breast had been, and vacancy — nothing 
more. 

31iriam and I sat over him, while an Arab attendant, 
sent by the governor, sat at a little distance, growling 
and grumbling at a furious rate. I paid no attention to 
it, but Mohammed Hassan, one of our sailors, who is our 
constant attendant when on shore, and who was helping 
me to overhaul the i)riest of old tinu^, took careful notes 
of all the fellow's remarks, winch were far from compli- 
mentary. I did not think that Mohammed observed it, 
but on leaving the temple I passed the governor's diwan, 
which was near the exit. I exchanged a few words with 
him, and went on, but missing Mohammed, I turned back 
to find him. Imagine niy svu'prise at seeing the Arab 
on his back before the governor, his feet upturned to 
the tenth blow, as I arrived to put a stop to it. Moham- 
med had pocketed all the insults on my account, and pro- 
duced them seriatim to the governor atler I had gone 
by, and the governor had proceeded, in the summary 
manner to which the Turks are accustomed, to administer 
the ordinary form of punishment. A great nation that ! 

The scene presented on the shore near our boat was 
curious and amusing. I believe I have heretofore men- 
tioned the custom of the modern Egyptians of shaving 



MEDICAL TREATMENT. 225 

their heads. One miglit imagine it to have originated in 
some ideas of cleanliness, were it not for the amount of 
filth and the nnmljer of vermin found elsewliere on their 
persons. While we Avere at the temple the men had sent 
for a bar]>er, and lie came down to the boat, bringing liis 
instruments with him, and on our return we found them 
seated in a row undergoing ihe shaving process. 

In this, as in so many other of the customs of the 
modern Egyptians, we find the ancient usage still pre- 
served. In one of the tombs at lieni Hassan is a r(;pre- 
sentation of a barber at his work, which lias been, not un- 
naturally, mistaken for a doctor and Iiis patient. Wliether 
the same effect is produced by the same process in mod- 
ern Egypt as in ancient, I am unable to say. Herodotus 
tells us that it hardened their skulls, and in this respect 
contrasts them with the Persians. I liave never seen men 
so susceptible to the infiuence of a hot sun as were the 
sailors on our boat. Tiierc was scarcely a day in which 
there was not one or more of them on his back from the 
effects of it, and the effects of the treatment he received 
from his fellows by way of medical assistance. 

I was astonished one afternoon at finding Yusef, one of 
the crew, administering a severe pounding to Hassan 
Ilegazi, another ; and, on inquiry, learned that it was 
medical treatment for a stroke of the sun. He pommeled 
liim terribly about the shoulders and breast. Then he 
pulled his two ears nearly out of his head, laid him down 
on one side and filled his ear with salt and water, and 
shook his head to shake it in, pulled his ears again, then 
seized him by the solitary scalp-lock on his head, and 
twisting it severely, gathered his hands around the back 
of his head, and rubbing them forward as if he were 
scraping the disease off from the surface to the forehead, 
he suddenly bit off the imaginary lump of illness which 
he had collected, and pronounced the patient cured. Per- 

10* 



22Q D O N K E Y T R A D E . 

haps he was, but Yiisef had pounded him into a fever, of 
which I had to cure him. And he did not thank me for 
it, but did attribute his final recovery to Yusef's nonsense. 

Esne was the last point on the passage up the river at 
which the men might bake bread, and here they laid in a 
supply to last them to the second cataract and back again. 

After two days of delay, we were ready to be away ; 
and now, think of my surprise at finding myself in a new 
trade. I never imagined that I should be in the donkey 
line ; but Abd-el-Atti was very desirous of procuring a 
good donkey, and Esne is the best point on the river for 
those useful animals. Abd-el-Atti might have looked in 
vain for a donkey to suit him, but the Howajji, with the 
firman of the viceroy, was another sort of person, and he 
begged me therefore, on his account, to write to the resid- 
ent governor at Esne, and direct him to have in readiness 
on our return a number of first-class donkeys, from which 
we should select one that might suit us. I consented, 
and the order was desj3atched, and his excellency did me 
the honor to assure me in reply that it should receive his 
profound consideration and devoted attention, or words 
to that effect in Arabic diplomacy. 




It was late in the afternoon when the bread was 
brought on board, and the shaving operation being fin- 
ished, Hassabo resumed his position at the tiller, and the 
men shook out the sail, and pushed off from the shore. 
The wind was fresh, and the foam dashed up before us as 
the crew gathered on deck near the mast, and sang to the 
music of the darabooka, which is but an earth ern jar, 
over the large end of which a skin, or the loose bag of a 
pelican's bill is stretched. So with a long chorus and a 
lively repeat, and an occasional shout of " Allah !" (for 
they are jDrofane dogs, those Mohammedans, though 
commonly called religious) we were again off on our 
voyage. 

Above Esne the game on the river became more plen- 
tiful, and I devoted myself to it with considerable zeal. 
Pelicans abounded, especially on Sundays, when we did 
not shoot. Every one knows that an American crow 
is thoroughly acquainted with the succession of days, and 
the return of the seventh brings him down with fearless 
boldness on the cornfield. It would be difficult to sup- 
pose that in this worse than heathen land, where the Sab- 
bath is unknown, the birds keep the run of the day ; and 
yet it was a stubborn fact that every Sunday on the river, 
the game was not only more plentiful than on other days, 
but approached the boat as fearlessly as if the animals 



228 EILEITHYAS. 

knew that we kept the clay of rest. One Sunday evenmg 
a flight of quite two hundred peUcans sailed around us, 
and Ht at length on a sand-bank close by our boat, and 
within a near gun-shot. 

But whether or not the animals and the inhabitants 
know the Sabbath day, I do verily believe that the land 
knows it, and the winds and the sky. Beautiful as they 
are on other days, calm and clear as are the skies, they 
have, nevertheless, on this day a glory and a quiet that I 
can not describe, excej^t by saying that it is like a Sab- 
bath morning at home in the country, and the air like 
that still, soft air that a summer Sunday morning brings 
in at the open windows of the church on the green ; and 
no heart can fail to keep in unison Avith sun and sky on 
such a day. 

We enter the sand-stone country now, and the ap- 
pearance of the hills along the river totally changes. 
They slope away from the banks, leaving their sides and 
bases covered with immense boulders. The country is 
narrower, and cultivation is becoming more difficult. 

The day after we left Esne I shot a pelican from the 
boat with a pistol-ball ; and the same afternoon, while on 
shore after pigeons, I found myself close on a flock of 
wild geese before I knew it, and got one of them with 
each barrel as they flew away. They proved to be the 
best we had found on the river. Their color was pre- 
cisely like our common American tame goose, white and 
lead-color mingled. That night we slept at El Kah^ the 
site of the ancient Eileithyas, and one of the most interest- 
ing points on the river. 

Waking early in the morning, I sprang ashore and up 
the bank, to find where we were. The plain stretches 
away two miles to the mountains, in parts of it much 
more. Only the edge of the river is cultivated ; the 
rest of the broad level is a sand and gravel barren, ex- 



COST OF ANTIQUES. 229 

tending up and down the river some ten miles. The site 
of the ancient city was considerably to the north of the 
point at which we lay, and I saw at the base of the hill 
the modern village, toward which I immediately deter- 
mined to direct my way. 

My object was simply to purchase antiques, which the 
fellahs who cultivate this plain find in large quantities. 

I have already warned the traveler against the frauds of 
the antique manufacturers at Thebes or Luxor. It is easy 
to imagine how important the business of purchasing curi- 
osities has become in Egypt. Hundreds of travelers going 
up and down the river demand them wherever they stop ; 
and the natives, Avho formerly thought of them as trifles, 
have now begun to learn their value. The scarabaeus, 
which is usually more highly valued than any other of the 
small antiques, on account of its possessing a religious in- 
terest, as well as because it usually bears a name on its 
face, was formerly sold at a few paras, while now it com- 
mands from five piastres to a dollar, according to its style 
and preservation. Other and larger antiques bear pro- 
portionate prices, and there is no limit to the demands 
of an Arab who finds a gold ring or a jewel. There are 
plenty of foolish Howajjis who will pay him ten times its 
value for it, and he knows this well enough to wait for 
a purchaser, who is sure to come in time. But there is 
really no necessity whatever for paying such prices as 
these, and the knowing traveler will never be deceived 
by a modern, or in the price of an antique. I very soon 
learned at Luxor that the Copt was not to be deluded 
into parting with any of his stores at their fair j^rice ; but 
that by stealthily asking every Arab, fellah, or boy, and 
especially every woman that I met, if they had antiques 
or coins or scarabsei, I frequently found them, and pur- 
chased them for mere trifles. Thus at Karnak I bought 
a scarabreus for a piastre and five paras, for which the 



230 BUYING ANTIQUES. 

Copt oftered me ten piastres the same day, and told Mus- 
taplia that he would readily give a dollar, to sell it for 
two. 

I had learned from Abd-el-Atti that El Kab was a fa- 
vorable place for such purchases, as the village lay four 
miles from the site of the ancient city, and hence no trav- 
elers are apt to visit it. I started at sunrise across the 
plain, hailing every Arab that I met with the usual ques- 
tion, " Mafisli goouran, mafish gedid, anteeka ?" (Have 
you no scarabseus, or coins, or antiques ?) Abd-el-Atti ac- 
companied me, and we made the same demand on each 
side, picking iip small affairs here and there, until we 
reached the village, Avhicli was on a rocky mound near 
an isolated mass of stone that had been left from the 
ancient quarrying. 

Here, seating myself on the ground in an open space 
among the mud houses, I dispatched every boy and 
woman I could find to call up their friends and tell 
them to bring me whatever they had in the way of an- 
tiques. In a few minutes I was surrounded by the 
men, women, and children of El Kab, in all the various 
degrees of nakedness, and all in one state of filth. The 
nameless vermin that I found on me after that expedition 
were intensely disgusting. The animals themselves par- 
took of the filthy appearance, as well as the dark color of 
the skins they had fed on. 

Naked children presented handsfuU of j)ieces of ancient 
pottery, or coins, or broken images of gods and sacred 
objects. Women leaned down to show their necklaces, 
on which were strung beads and scarabaii, and pieces of 
agate and cornelian, cut into strange shapes known only 
in old mythology. A small coin satisfied the most anx- 
ious of them; and they expressed aloud their regret that 
they had sold a great many — all that they had — a few 
weeks before to the Copt from Luxor, who had been up 



BUYING ANTIQUES. 231 

here on a purchasing expedition. They said I gave them 
twice what he did. They had nothing that was very 
valuable, for this reason, and what they had were what 
had been found within a few days. Some scarabaei, two 
or three small vases for toilet purposes, and one ring of 
the time of Amunoph III., the Memnon of Thebes — or, 
rather, him whose statue is called that of Memnon — and 
a handful of coins, and curious small images and earthen 
objects were all that I obtained. 

One very curious antique which I picked up here, was 
a die, of ivory, resembling modern dice in all respects but 
one. The well-known power of the die, which is com- 
monly called seven, from the fact that the sum of the op- 
posite sides is always seven, and out of twenty throws of 
a pair the average result will be seven to a throw or very 
near it, was in this instance lost. The ace was not op- 
posite to the six nor the two to the five. 

The crowd became thicker and more noisy. One man 
was loud in his remarks which were not complimentary 
to the Howajji. I paid no attention to him but, continued 
my purchases. The press increased, and when at length 
a half naked woman with a quite naked baby in her arms, 
tumbled over my feet and almost into my embrace, to the 
detriment of my personal feelings, and the baby's as well, 
I rose and decamped leaving the crowd in glorious con- 
fusion over a half dozen coppers that I scattered among 
them. 

The sheik, I have forgotten his name, but the chances 
are that if it was not Achmet it was Mohammed, was 
waiting for me at the upper end of the village where he 
knew I must pass in going out, and had two horses ready 
saddled for me and my servant. He knew that the boat 
had gone on so far that to attempt to overtake it on foot 
was out of the question. I accepted his offer with grati- 
tude, and was preparing to mount, when a tremendous 



232 AN ARAB HOUSE. 

row arrested my attention. Some twenty or thirty of the 
villagers were n})jn-oaching, vociferating a demand for 
more hueksheesh, based on the fact that they had failed 
in getting any of my scattering. Foremost among them 
was the hnge rascal who had been personal in his re- 
marks, lie came to a sorrowful fate. Abd-el-Atti seized 
him by the back of the neck and walked him up to the 
sheik, lie was strono- enoiijjfh to tlu'ow the drajxoman 
over the sheik's head, no hard job, indeed, for the sheik 
was lamentably small, but the big fellow Avalked up to 
him with sufficient humility and my astonishment was 
immense when the little sheik ordered him to be laid 
down on his face and administered to his back about thirty 
blows of a tolerably large cane. Up to this moment I had 
not, in the confusion of tongues, understood what it was 
about, but now the thrashed man rushed up to me and 
attempted to seize iny hand with a view to defile it with 
his dirty lips, a ceremony which I always preferred to 
have honored in the breach. 

The sheik renewed his profler of the horses. One of 
them was wicked-looking but a magnificent animal, and 
stood eyeing the crowd with furious countenance, while 
two Arabs held him by the nose. 

I advanced to mount, and set my foot on the shovel 
stirrup. A shovel stin-uj) is — a shovel stirrup ; nothing 
else; a flat shovel of iron, sides turned up, and four 
sharp points turned out, on wliich the whole foot rests. 

The Arabs ride with short stirrup-straps, and knees up to 
their chins. As I touched the stirrup it touched liis side, 
and — presto — his heels flew into the crowd behind him, 
and Abd-el-Atti, struck full on tlie breast, went a rod back- 
ward, and howled as if Sathanas himself had struck him. 
I never saw a horse's lieels fly so fast and so many ways 
at once. I vanished through the open doors of the near- 
est mud hut, and found myself in the hareem of a worthy 



A L E A r , A N D A W A y I 2'Vi 

of El Kab, among all Borts of women and cliilclren, in all 
sorts of dresses and no dresses. When I looked out the 
scene was more quiet. Abd-el-Atti was moaning and groan- 
ing. The sheik was looking in horror of mind for the 
vanished Ilowajji, and wondering if he were really an- 
nihilated by the furious animal, whom the two Arabs still 
held by the nose, around which one of them had twisted 
a halter. 

I glanced at the saddle-girths and the reins. They did 
not look over strong, but I resolved to risk them. I had 
l)oasted from childhood that no horse had ever mastered 
or thrown me, and I was unwilling to give up the at- 
tempt on this wild specimen of the Prophet's own breed. 

My precipitate retreat had not given my Arabian 
friends any exalted ideas of my courage, but they did 
not appreciate as fully as I that I had not come to Egypt 
to have my brains kicked out by a horse, and tliat dis- 
cretion is sometimes valor. I shouted to them now to 
clear the way, and with a short run went into the saddle. 
It had a back-board eight inches high, and a short ijost 
or handle four inches high from the pommel. It was no 
small operation to settle myself between these two in the 
short space of time allowed. As I struck the saddle the 
Arabs Hung him off, and went rolling heels over head as 
they scattered out of the Avay of the first plunge. 

It was a magnificent leap ; another, and we were out 
of the village, a third and we were at full speed on 
the plain which stretched away five miles, a dear], hard 
level of gravel, without a break or a blade of grass. For 
twenty rods the pace was tremendous. The peculiarity 
of an Arab horse is that he is at full speed on the third 
leap. I became alarmed at the first, and checked him 
with a sharp rein. He came down in a heap, nearly 
thrown, and nearly pitching me over his head. After try- 
ing this once or twice more, I learned that he would not 



234 RAIN IN EG YPT. 

bear the lightest drawing on the rein. Then I talked to 
him, and for a wonder he understood my Arabic, and 
then we began to understand each other, and, at length, 
went along at an easy gallop over the plain toward the 
ancient city of Eileithyas. I saw nothing more of Abd-el- 
Atti till I readied the boat. He was entirely distanced. 

The site of the old city is still surrounded by the crude 
brick wall which incloses the ruined brick houses, and the 
remains of stone temples and palaces that were once the 
habitations of men, but are now the homes of wolves and 
jackals. 

The size, height, and thickness of this wall are a source 
of astonishment to the stranger, and illustrate the re- 
marks I had occasion to make in a former chapter, on tlie 
subject of the enduring nature of crude, unburned brick 
in this country. This is the more astonishing when one 
is infoi'nied, that the connnou story that it never rains in 
Egypt is entirely destitute of truth, a remark exempli- 
iied by the fact that I have seen on the Nile, sixty miles 
above Cairo, as hard a rain-shower as one is apt to see 
in America. It is true that this is not a frequent oc- 
currence, but there is more or less of rain in Upper 
and Lower Egypt every year, and mountain-torrents are 
formed that have left their dry rocky beds in every 
ravine on the side of the Nile. And through these 
storms, for thousands of years, the brick walls have 
stood, decaying, indeed, but massive yet, and are likely 
to outlast the storms of thousands more, if they are not 
carried away by the Arabs ; for the only manure I have 
seen applied to land in Upper Egypt is the old dust of 
ancient brick walls. These they dig down, and loading 
panniers on donkeys Avith the dust, scatter it on tlie 
plains, to add richness to the soil, which is not sufficiently 
enriched by the overflow of the river. 

Leaving the tombs to be visited hereafter, I rode 



LIZARDS. 235 

around the wall, and overtook the boat three miles 
above. At the instant of approaching it I saw three or 
four large lizards in the river, much like a crocodile in 
appearance, but destitute of scales. I shot one, and 
Abd-el-Atti another. The one measured four feet eight 
inches in length, the other three feet six. These are the 
monitor lizard, I suppose, celebrated as the enemy of the 
crocodile, whom they destroy by crawling into his open 
mouth and down his throat, whence they eat their way 
out through the animal and destroy him. 

A picture of the scene on shore that evening was worth 
preserving. We lay at the bank, near a small village 
called Kella^ and as usual a giiard was sent down to 
watch the boat, lest robbers should make free with our 
property, and we should thereupon hold the village re- 
sponsible. 

The guard spread their dark boornooses on the ground 
and slept profoundly. I glanced out of the window late 
in the evening, and saw Ferraj and Ilalifa busy, with ear- 
nest countenances flashing in the light of a lantern, over 
the bodies of the lizards, which they were skinning for 
preservation. 




2^ 

£ c) f 1( . 

Mohammed Hassan had been sent on from El Kab to 
Edfou to order sundry provisions that were necessary, 
and especially charcoal, which we could not obtain above 
here. In the morning after leaving El Kab when I awoke 
I saw a group of horses on the bank, keeping along with 
the boat, which was tracking slowly. It appeared that 
the governor had sent them down for us to ride up to 
Edfou in advance of the boat ; and accepting them will- 
ingly, I mounted one and was oif over the fields, attended 
by Abd-el-Atti and the governor's messenger. 

We rode some two miles through the fields of doura, 
now leaping the trenches, through which the Nile water 
ran over the fields, and now pushing our way through 
the standing corn, until at length we struck the dry bed 
of a canal, full only at very high Nile, and followed this 
up to the village, high over w^hich we saw the lofty propy- 
lon towers of the vast temple. 

Speaking of horses ; as we rode along, one of the gov- 
ernor's officers told me a story of an old sheik of the 
Bedouins that I have seen in print in two or three forms, 
but never precisely in this : 

He was old and poor. The latter virtue is common to 
his race. He owned a tent, a Nubian slave, and a mare; 
nothing else. The mare was the fleetest animal on the 



A DESERT MARE. 237 

desert. From the Nile to the Euphrates, fame of this 
animal had gone out, and kings had sought in vain to 
own her. The love of a Bedouin for his horse is not that 
fabled affection that we read of in books. This love is 
the same affection that an American nabob has for his 
gold, or rather that a poor laborer has for his day's 
wages. His horse is his life. He can rob, plunder kill, 
and destroy ad libitimi if he have a fleet steed. If he 
have none, he can do nothing, but is the prey of every one 
who has. Acquisition is a prominent feature of Arab 
character, but accumulation is not found in the brain of a 
son of Ishmael. The reason is obvious. If he have wealth 
he has nowdiere to keep it. He w^ould be robbed in a 
night. He w^ould, indeed, have no desire to keep it ; for 
the Bedouin who murders you for a shawl, or a belt, or 
some gay trapping, will give it away the next day. 

Living this wandering life, the old sheik was rich in 
this one mare, which was acknowledged to be the fleet- 
est horse in Arabia. 

Ibrahim Pasha wished the animal, as his father had 
wished her before him. He sent various offers to the old 
sheik, but in vain. At length jhe sent a dei:)utation, with 
five hundred* purses (a purse is five pounds), and the old 
man laughed at them. 

" Then," said Ibrahim Pasha, " I will take your mare." 

" Try it." 

He sent a regiment into the desert, and the sheik rode 
around them, and laughed at them, and the regiment 
came home. 

At last the sheik died from a wound received in a fray 
with a neighboring tribe. Dying he gave to his Nubian 
slave all that he had — this priceless mare — and the duties 
of the blood revenge. 

The faithful slave accepted both, and has ever since 
been the terror of the eastern desert. Yearly he comes 



238 TEMPLE AT EDFOU. 

down like a hawk on the tents of that devoted tribe, and 
leaves a ball or a lance in man or woman. No amonnt 
of blood satiates his revenge ; and the mare and the black 
rider arc as celebrated in Arabia as the wdld hmitsman 
in Eurojoean forests, and much better known. 

But one incident interrupted our morning ride. We 
met two tall men riding on one miserable donkey, and 
held a temporary court to inquire into the proper punish- 
ment that should be administered in the case. It was 
decided that they should be made to carry the donkey ; 
but the donkey w^ouldn't be carried, until I made one of 
them tie his legs together, and take him up, sheep fash- 
ion, on his shoulders, witli the legs before him. After 
they had each carried him a hundred yards, we dismissed 
them with a lecture and rode on to Edfou. 

Old Suleiman — that was his name — every body was 
named Mohammed, or Selim, or Suleiman, or Abdallah, 
or some derivative of one of these names — old Suleiman, 
the governor of Edfou, w^as not at the temple. He had 
an idea, perhaps, that I would ride to his house and wait 
on him ; but I had a temple in my eye that shut out all 
governors and governors' houses. 

I rode around the rear of the temple, followed by my 
train, w^hicli had now increased to a larger number, and 
dismounted on the top of the inclosing wall of the grand 
court, for the earth was banked up to this height on the 
west side. Entering the stairway of the great tow^er 
Avest of the grand door of the temple, I forbade any hu- 
man foot to follow me, for I Avas tired out by the Arabic 
gabble, and climbed, lonesome, and sole possessor for 
the time, that grand propylon. At length, coming out 
on the lofty summit, I threw myself down on the vast 
stones that crown its top, gazing in silence and profound 
awe on the court, and corridors, and temple below me. 

Where, where are they now ? Hackneyed old ques- 



A FUNERAL. 239 

tion, indeed, but I tell you, man, that when you stand on 
the tower of the temple at Edfou, or in the awful hall of 
Karnak, you will ask the question with new and over- 
whelming interest. Gone ! gone ! and whither ? Where 
are the men, when their works stand here sublime ? Where 
are the maidens, when their voices have not ceased to echo 
here in choral hymns ? Where are the worshipers, when 
the gods sit yet on their seats, and the altars wait the 
kindling of the fire and the victims ? 

It was a golden morning. The sunlight lay like a 
dream on the Nile valley. Five miles down the river I 
saw the flag of the Phantom slowly tracking up the 
stream, which approaches within about a mile of the vil- 
lage and temple. 

After a little I saw the governor and his suite approach- 
ing the temple through a street or lane in the mud village 
which reached up to the front of the propylon, and after I 
had finished my inspection of the country I descended to 
the court where he was waiting me. 

Suleiman was a hard-looking old Turk, much the worse 
for wear and arrakee. When I came back to Edfou I 
found where he got his arrakee, but of that hereafter. 
He was attended by a one-eyed scribe, an eight-fingered 
cawass, and half a dozen minor ofiicials. I was obliged 
to walk down into town with the old fellow, and to his 
seat of justice, a bench in an archway on the side of the 
only mosk at Edfou. I sat on his bench awhile, drank 
two or three cups of cofiee, and smoked a chibouk, and 
then, very fortunately for my purposes, a funeral j^roces- 
sion came up into the open square before the mosk, and 
the loud wails of the women drowned all conversation 
and aflTorded me a chance to escape. 

It was the funeral of a child, who Avas carried on an 
open bier, and followed by seventy-five or a hundred w^om- 
en. Fresh mourners poured in from every corner and 



240 DIED OF A DEVIL. 

byway and joined, them. Each one as she came walked 
up to the mother of the child, placing one hand tenderly 
on her head and pressed the forehead gently to the fore- 
head of the old woman, and then looked in her face and 
uttered a low wail, to which the mother answered. 

The latter was a tall, gaunt woman, with one of those 
faces of Egyptian old women, utter abject woe incarnate. 
She carried in her hand a stick seven feet long, which she 
used by way of support as she stalked back and forth in 
the square, exchanging those mournful salutations and 
uttering loud laments and praises of her dead boy. 

"Is it a boy?" I inquired of the one-eyed scribe of the 
governor, as the face of the child, calm and unearthly, as 
are the faces of all dead children, passed my seat after 
the procession went around the square twice or three 
times. 

" Yes ; and he died of a devil." 

"Of a devil?" 

" Yes ; he was well, playing about the house, and he 
suddenly sprang up and spat on the ground, and fell down 
dead." 

" He choked, did he not ?" 

"No, it was a devil j a devil entered into him and 
killed him." 

So be it, thought I. It will do you no good to argue 
the matter. I told the governor I was minded to follow 
the funeral and see the burial ; and as this was out of his 
line and quite beneath his dignity, he let me go, and I 
mounted my horse again and joined the procession, which 
now left the village and wound around the rear of the 
temple. Here I deserted the funeral, rode back to the 
sunny side of the temple, and, dismounting, sat down in 
the dust of old and modern Egypt and called for antiques. 
In five minutes I was surrounded by a motley crowd, of 
various colors, and chiefly naked. One girl, a well-shaped 



AFASTGALLOP. 241 

child of ten or eleven, improved on the general style of un- 
dress by having a single string of beads around her waist. 
Nothing else on her from head to foot. Her appearance 
was novel if not picturesque. 

I bought the usual quantities of trinkets and coins, and 
one very beautiful vase, or plate, of clear, translucent 
stone, much like an agate, but not so hard, with two 
cupids holding a heart between them. It was as modern 
as possible in design, but I had sufficient evidence of its 
antiquity in the place and the price. 

The sheik of the field men, that is of the agricultural 
part of the community, who could always control the dis- 
coveries of antiques, promised me to preserve any new 
treasures that might be dug up until my return, and hav- 
ing exhausted the stock on hand, I remounted and rode 
through the town again, to go down to the river and re- 
join the Phantom. 

Suleiman was waiting for me. The wily old fellow 
was not to be baulked of a bottle of brandy, which he 
made sure he would receive if he hung on, and he fell in 
behind me on the way to the boat. 

I gave him a run of it. His politeness made it neces- 
sary for him to keej) up with me, and I gave the horse 
the rein, taking the fields instead of the winding path that 
led through them to the usual landing-place. The old 
fellow stuck to his saddle like a cat, and went over trenches 
where I made sure I should shake him off, as if he had 
done nothing else but ride steeple-chases all his life, nor 
did he pull up till I did, at the bank of the river, where 
the Phantom lay along the shore, near a boat which evi- 
dently belonged to a man of distinction. Suleiman's face 
grew some inches longer when he recognized his superior, 
Mohammed Romali, the nazir of this section. Him I 
found, seated on a carpet under a sont tree, with Trum- 
bull, and the two were discussing sherbet and chibouks 

11 



242 GOVERNMENT OF EGYPT. 

as confidentially as if they had known each other from 
childhood. 

He had arrived a short time before, and had summoned 
the resident khadi before him to hear a report of the late 
litigations which he had decided. The khadi had come 
down, attended by several litigants, and Trmnbull, on his 
arrival, had found the nazir listening to the statements, 
and afiirming or reversing decrees, as the cases were sev- 
erally laid before him. But he interrupted his court on 
the arrival of the Phantom^ and between them they had 
drank some half-dozen cups of coffee each, and had finished 
nearly as many pipes of tobacco. 

The form of government of Egypt is somewhat of a 
puzzle to the natives, and to the governors themselves, 
but Mohammed Roumali, the governor with whom I 
found Trumbull, informed me of its general nature, and 
it is somewhat thus : 

Every thing here is autocratical. The viceroy is su- 
preme, and makes laws as he pleases, appointing and dis- 
appointing, movhig and re-moving, as his will inclines. 
Next to him arc the superintendent governors of the three 
great sections of Egypt. The first section reaches from 
the sea to a point not far above Cairo. The second sec- 
tion from this point to Semneh, just above the second cata- 
ract, and the last from Semneh as far south as the viceroy 
can collect taxes. Of the second section, which covers all 
that part of the Nile that travelers ordinarily go over, 
Latif Pasha is the superintendent governor, exercising 
supreme power. Although the law requires all sentences 
of death to be submitted to the viceroy, he does not wait 
for this, but executes when he pleases. Under him, and 
as a sort of associate ofiicer, is Abd-el-Kader Bey, who is 
governor of the same section, under the suj)erintendence 
of Latif Pasha. Under him again are governors of minor 
sections, as, for example, Abd-el-Rahman, who is governor 



A SICK KHADI. 243 

from Wady Halfeh to the first cataract, and Suleiman 
EfFendi, who is governor from the first cataract to 
Thebes. Under these governors are traveling governors, 
who go along the river from place to place, examining 
the conduct of various villages and cities, heanng aj^peals 
from the local magistrates and judges, and attending to 
similar business. Besides these, each village and city has 
its local governor, whose power extends only to the next 
village ; every city and village has its sheik, as also has 
each separate trade or business. Thus the boatmen have 
their sheik in every large jDlace ; the laborers in the field 
have their sheik ; the merchants, the donkey owners, and 
the water carriers. The ofiice of the sheik is hereditary, 
descending from father to son. 

The interpreter and judge of the law is in the first in- 
stance the khadi, who is a sort of clergyman, thoroughly 
acquainted with the Koran and its provisions. Any man 
dissatisfied with the decision of a sheik, may go to the 
khadi, and from him to the nazir. Thus far an aj^peal is 
safe. But to carry it further, is risking lands and life, in 
an autocratical country like this. 

The khadi, in this instance, Avas a sort of chief justice 
among the khadis hereabouts. He was a plain, elderly 
man, dressed in the simplest costume — shirt and turban — 
but a man of dignity, and apparently much respected. 

He, too, came on board the boat, and, shortly after, 
took me aside and begged a prescription for a chronic dis- 
ease with which he was afiected, and which I gave him as 
cautiously as I could, knowing nothing about the proper 
treatment. I recommended what I knew would not hurt 
him, and, as it afterward turned out, I was very fortunate, 
for on my return to Edfou, three weeks later, he pro- 
nounced himself a well man, and, wonderful to relate, 
attributed it to the medicine. 

The charcoal was all in, and still they sat. Old Su- 



244 EASTERN TOBACCO. 

leiman had received his conge long ago. The nazir 
knew what lie came for, and found business for him else- 
where ; and when he was gone, frankly told us why he 
sent him away. 

I believe it was the first time that Trumbull and myself 
acknowledged ourselves smoked out. I counted pipes un- 
til I was on my eleventh and he must have been on the 
seventeenth, and there was still no sign of the nazir yield- 
ing. 

lie was a very intelligent man, and talked freely of the 
state of affiiirs in Egypt. We picked up much informa- 
tion from him. *' Don't be in haste about going," said 
he, observing certain signs of impatience. " There is no 
wind, and I will see that you lose nothing by chatting 
with me an hour or two longer. It's a comfort to meet 
some one from the lower country. I pass the summer 
here among these people, and don't see an intelligent 
man till the travelers begin to come up the river in the 
winter." And so we filled up our pipes again, and went 
at it afresh. 

I like tobacco moderately and immoderately, nor have 
I any hesitation in pronouncing myself a judge of tobacco. 
And, strange as it may seem, although on first tasting it, 
I condemned Latakea as no tobacco at all, I became at 
length inordinately fond of it, and smoked it in quantities 
incredible. 

The tobacco of the East is of many varieties. The 
Turkish, or Stambouli, found in Constantinople bazaars, is 
strong, somewhat sharp, and not pleasant. It is now im- 
ported to America in quantities, and may be bought any- 
where in New York. It is of light color, and very finely 
cut, so as to appear almost like threads. In flavor, to lips 
that have been pleased with genuine Latakea, the Stam- 
bouli is detestable. 

Next comes Syrian Jebeli, or mountain tobacco — a 



LATAKEA TOBACCO. 245 

fine-flavored article, but acrid, and although preferable to 
Stambouli, it is stronger than Latakea, and inferior in 
delicacy. My American taste led me to mix it with the 
Latakea, and thus bring the latter up to the strength of 
good Cuba tobacco ; but, as I grew to liking the Latakea, 
I dropped the Jebeli entirely. Egypt has its heledi to- 
bacco, that is the native tobacco of the country, and it is 
of the lowest grade. The common people use it, and not 
infrequently it is inflicted on guests by village sheiks and 
petty officials, as I remember to my cost at Abou Girg. 

There are two cities of old times known to history as 
Laodicea : the one Laodicea of Asia Minor, celebrated as 
the site of one of the seven churches ; the other in Syria, 
on the sea coast, not far from the north-east corner of the 
Mediterranean. In wandering through that country I 
found the place, a modern Syrian village, in the heart of 
which stood two stately ruins of Roman glory, a temple 
and perhaps a tomb. In this latter city, Latakea, as it is 
now called, much tobacco is sold. It is carefully pre- 
pared in a way not elsewhere known, by hanging the 
leaves in a smoke-house, and burning under them chips 
of a fragrant wood. This it is which gives to the tobacco 
that slisfht taste of smoke which Burton and other travel- 
ers mention without knowing its origin, and which leads 
them to condemn it. It is mostly sent to Egypt, where 
the demand is never supplied. Little of the best Latakea 
travels elsewhere, and I have sent to Cairo for all that I 
have imported since my return, being certain of getting 
tlie best there. Its fragrance is ambrosial, its effects on 
brain and nerves beyond description calm. 

Come and see me some evening, O my friend, and we 
will close the windows, and drop the curtains, and shut 
out the sight, if not the sound, of the rattling, driving, 
furious western world, and you shall wrap my old and 
travel-stained boomoose around you, crown your head 



246 



A STRONG PULL. 



with my tarbouche that has been wet with the spray of 
the second cataract of the Nile, the sea of GaUlee, the 
frozen dews of Hermon, and the w^aters of the Pharpar, 
and you shall sip mocha (veritable akwa of the orient), 
black and fragrant as the drink of gods, while we make 
the air blue with the delicious aroma of Latakea, fit for 
the shapes and shades that haunt my memories of the 
East, which you shall share. 

Mohammed Roumali kept his promise, that we should 
not suffer by our delay. AVhile he talked, his messengers 
had collected the people in all directions, and he had at 
length a hundred fellaheen waiting his orders. At three 
in the afternoon he went ashore, and they took hold of 
the tow-rope, and w^ent up the bank with a will. It was 
child's-play to them, so many on one boat, and they drew^ 
us in two hours further than our own men would have 
been able to track in a day. The current above Edfou is 
very strong, and the assistance w^as most timely. To- 
ward evening a light breeze sprang up, and, taking in the 
tow-rope, we shot ahead of the dusky group, who stood 
in a body on the shore, and watched us for a long time as 
we went up the river. 




^3. 

Jl]e Joboei^ of 8 l^ e \\ e, 

I WAS roused from a sound sleep by a terrible row on 
shore. My room was six feet by four, of which four two 
feet were occupied by my bed. Trumbull's room, of the 
same size, was oj^posite to mine, and the entire stern of the 
boat was in one room, which was occupied by the ladies. 
I raised myself on my elbow high enough to look out of 
my window which stood oj^en day and night, and seeing a 
general skirmish going on between the crew and some 
natives, I seized my koorbash and sprang from the win- 
dow to the bank. 

The ajopearance of theHowajji suspended hostilities, and 
I now learned for the first time that Mohammed Roumali 
had placed an officer on the boat with orders, whenever 
the wind failed, to press fellaheen into service on the tow- 
roj^e, so that our lost time at Edfou should be fully made 
up. We could not, without inciviUty, refuse this aid, and 
yet it was by no means pleasant, except in the result. 
Leaving the cawass to exercise his authority, I turned 
back to the boat and we pushed, or rather they pulled 
us, on. Ten minutes later there w^as a loud outcry on 
the bank ; Abd-el-Atti rushed into the cabin for his pis- 
tols and I followed him out with mine, under a sort of 
imagination that not less than a thousand Bedouins must 
be in the neighborhood waiting to attack us. 



248 A SKIRMISH. 

The crew, taken mightily with the notion of getting 
help on the tow-rojje, had organized in a sort of roving 
party, and with the cawass at their head were marching 
about three hundred yards from the river, where they 
could cut off all natives who attempted to escape inland 
and drive them down to the tow-rope. By this means they 
had now about fifty and were in high spirits, as indeed 
were those that were caught, who the moment they were 
at work, entered into the pleasure of catching others. 
The rascals so much enjoyed entrapping their friends that 
I lost all pity for them. But the crew liad met their 
match in a group of nearly forty natives who were as- 
sembled in an opening among the standing corn, and who 
had gotten the idea that a government boat was coming 
to catch and press them for soldiers in the army of Said 
Pasha. Death has no such horror for Egyptians as this 
fate of being pressed as a soldier. To avoid it they cut 
off their fingers, pluck out their eyes, and mutilate them- 
selves in every way. 

The little group were assembled with all the determina- 
tion of rebels in a brave cause, and as the cawass made 
his appearance through the corn, a lance went by his head 
within an inch of it, and struck the shoulder of Hassan 
Hegazi, but being nearly spent wounded him but slightly. 
A tremendous yell from both sides announced the deter- 
mination of both to fight out the battle thus commenced, 
and Abd-el-Atti hearing it rushed to the rescue with the 
Howajji close behind him. The combatants were still 
racing each other when we arrived, and Hassan brought 
me the spear which I preserved as a trophy and have 
with me now. The arrival of fire-arms put an end to the 
contest. The poor feellaheen dropped on their knees and 
begged for mercy. 

Abd-el-Atti explained to them what was wanted of 
them, and their faces lit up with dehght, while the scoun- 



HARD A-GROUND. 249 

drels instantly proposed to inveigle all the men of a 
neighboring Tillage into the trap. But at this moment a 
breeze came and we hastened on board, drew in the 
track-rope, scattered a liberal bucksheesh on shore, and 
were away. News flies swiftly even in Egypt. For miles 
up the river the shadoofs were deserted, the corn fields 
empty, nor could we see man, or woman, or child, so that 
you would have thought the land deserted of its inhabit- 
ants, such was their terror of the government boat. 

I regretted the whole circumstance as exceedingly 
painful, nor have I yet forgiven myself the pain of appre- 
hension that I unwittingly inflicted on these poor wretches 
already weighed down with the oppression of their miser- 
able life. 

Toward evening the breeze freshened and blew a steady 
gale. In a clear laughing moonlight we entered the nar- 
row pass at Hagar Silsilis, and swept with a full sail and a 
long swinging roll through this rocky gate of the upper 
country, catching in dim outline the carved grottos that 
adorn the western shore, and the high rock from which 
the gorge derives its name. 

Of this more when I come down the river. 

As we rushed out of the pass into a broad, moonlit, 
lake-like sheet of water, we saw a boat lying at the shore, 
and then with a thump that sent every thing flying over 
the deck, we struck a sand bar, and were fast aground. 

Perhaps this Avas the twentieth time since we left 
Cairo, and, as in each former instance, a dozen of the 
crew were overboard in an instant, heaving under the 
side of the boat. It was an hour before we got ofl" and 
dropped down stream again to stand up another chan- 
nel. We passed a boat that was lying at the shore, 
little dreaming then, that by the light that flashed out 
on the Nile were sitting two Americans, although we 
might have guessed it had we reflected that our friends, 

11* 



250 KOUM 0MB OS. 

Mr. and Mrs. Martin, liad left Es Siout a day before us, 
and where somewhere hereabout. 

Early the next morning we were under the high bluff 
on which stands the temple of Kouni Ombos, and ^YG 
climbed the hill before breakfast, all four of us, to see the 
ruins and the view up the river. 

The temple Avas founded in the time of Ptolemy Philo- 
metor, b. c. 1 80, and continued and completed during 
the reigns of his successors, and is singular in being, as it 
were, a double temple, having two shrines, in which two 
contemplar gods were worshiped, the one in each. 

There is a gateway of another temple standing, but 
the stone of the temple itself is fallen down the hill, and 
lies in irregular masses even to tlie edge of the WMter. 
No one can even trace the former shape of this building. 
The chief interest in looking at the large temj^le consists 
in the fact that its sculptures were never wholly finished, 
and the marks of the artists, the outline drawings of the 
figures, and the squares into which the surface of the 
stone was marked out before drawing the figures, all re- 
main freshly visible, even to the places where the chisel 
had but touched the rock. Tiiere is something melan- 
choly in the unfinished painting of a dead painter, the 
half-hewn marble of a dead sculptor, the half-written 
song of a dead poet. How much more oppressive the 
melancholy, where the pahiter and sculptor have been 
dead two thousand years, and the stone remains as it was 
left, and the lines still stand on the surfiice ! 

While we stood looking out alternately to the south and 
to the north-west, the boat of our American friends came 
up the river with a fiiir breeze, and we ran hastily down 
the sloping side of the hill, plunging our feet into the 
loose desert sand, and were on board as the first breath 
of wind reached us. We dashed up the river rapidly, 
and as the breeze freshened to almost a gale, we flew be- 



HASSABO AT HOME. 251 

fore it. The golden sands now came down to the edge 
of the water on both sides of ns, often seeming ready to 
overflow and destroy the groups of palms that stood on 
the shore. As we approached Es Souan the villages im- 
proved in aj^pearance, and every thing seemed to be 
smiling. Even the desert was beautiful, exceedingly, 
and the sky was glorious. 

Hassabo, the steersman, the best man on the boat, had 
his family in a small village below Es Souan, and of 
course must take this opportunity to see them. As we 
could not ascend the cataract till the next day, we gave 
him leave of absence to rejoin us above the cataract, and 
he made ready his baggage and the little j^resents he had 
brought from Cairo. 

All along the bank of the river, for miles before we 
reached the village, his acquaintances hailed him, and he 
exchanged with them the graceful phrases of eastern 
salutation. The news of his approach ran along the 
shore faster than we flew, and many voices out of the 
fields and villages hailed us with shouts of " welcome 
Hassabo !" At length we came up to a group of dark- 
faced persons (for Hassabo is a Nubian, and black), and 
here we let the sheet fly, and the boat's keel scraped the 
sand. Over flew all his baggage far up the bank, and 
then Hassabo sprang into his mother's arms. The old 
woman stood trembling on the shore, looking wistfully 
for him till he left the boat. Then she^threw her arms 
around him, and clasped him close, and wept over him, 
and kissed his cheeks, and all the time he stood silent 
and motionless, only looking at her and the surrounding- 
group. She touched his cheeks and his hands as if, like 
old Isaac, her eyesight were dim, and she would know 
him by the softness of his shining skin, and then she laid 
her withered hand on the top of his head, and leaned 



252 FAK 8YENE. 

forward and threw licrsclf again on his breast. Yea — 
verily — it was her boy. 

O, Philip, my friend, who will read these lines as if yon 
lieard my voice speaking them, you will understand how 
my heart yearned to that mother, though she was black 
and poor. There was a day, long, long after that, when 
another wanderer reached his mother's house, and found 
her alone where he had left lier with his father's pres- 
ence. And when the far-traveled boy pressed lier quiv- 
ering lips, though it was in a sunny American home, 
among trees and vines, and with fair white faces around 
them, his heart went back to the cataract and black 
Ilassabo and his glad old mother. 

We stood on deck in front of the cabin doors, and 
looked admiringly on the scene. The crew entered into 
it with keen delight, and as the sheet was hauled home, 
and they heaved her bow from the shore, they gave three 
genuine hurras, as we had taught them how, for Ilassabo, 
and on rushed the Phantom to far Syene. It was three 
in the afternoon when we dashed by the hill on which 
stands the ruined citadel, and among the rocks which 
here till the bed of the river, and fu'ed our salute to the 
cataract as we came to the land at its foot under the 
tower of Syene. 

Here, again, -was a point in my wanderings that was 
full of interest, as one of the ancient boundaries of the 
world. Here, in old days, men paused, and hesitated, and 
turned back. The dwellers beyond Syene were unknown 
heathen. But hero were four travelers from a land beyond 
the Pillars of Hercules, who had come thus far to look at 
Syene, and pass its rocky barriers, and go on to a more 
distant point, whose feet had already travel(Ml six thousand 
miles from home, and would walk many thousand more 
before they returned to that threshold again. The world 
ended here, and the world ends not far from liere now ; 



ELEPHANTINE. 253 

but men live beyond, and temples and palaces lie in ruins 
beyond, and the palm-trees flourish, and the Nile flows, 
and yet, if all that lies beyond Syene were blotted out of 
existence, swept ofl" from the chart of the world and tlie 
page of history, who would miss any thing ? Verily the 
world ends just here. 

A crowd were waiting for us at Es Souan. Being the 
first boat of the season, we were likely to be victimized 
by all the venders of curiosities, and they manifestly re- 
garded us as legitimate prey. There were sellers of 
gigantic ebony clubs, the weapon of the Abyssinians, and 
rhinoceros hide shields, wherewith to ward ofi" the blows 
of the clubs, and there were naked children with baskets, 
curiously plaited, and pipes of clay well made and well 
burned, and koorbashes, and dates, and ostrich eggs, and 
all sorts of antiques from Elephantine. 

The crowd beset the shore, alongside the boat. When 
I went ashore, hearing my name called out in good En- 
glish, they turned it into Arabic precisely as all others 
liad done, and shouted, "Braheem Pasha, buy our wares." 

After a vain attempt to stroll quietly along the shore, 
we took refuge in our small boat, and pulled across to 
the island of Elephantine. 

The glory of Elephantine has departed long ago. In 
ancient days its temples and palaces surpassed in splendor 
all the fables of antiquity. No wealth could again rear 
such buildings ; no nation of modern times, with all the 
wealth of modern days, could erect one such temple, 
much less the hundred that crowded this sacred island. 
Here magnificence and beauty held their court and swayed 
the hearts of men. Here alternate love and hate, and all 
the passions of the human breast, held for their brief times 
the reins of powder. Here men reigned, women loved, 
kings and priests and princes lived and died, and the 
change came, and time trod on them and crushed the 



254 NUBIAN GIRLS. 

palaces, and the avenging angel swept his wing over 
them, and their very dust went away on the wind. Ele- 
phantine lay in the Nile, and other nations took the place 
of Egypt in the roll of time. There is, perhaps, no place 
in Egypt that, could it have a voice, would utter more 
strange and splendid histories of men and kings than this 
island. 

It lies in the river, from the foot of the cataract, 
stretching down in front of Es Souan about a mile, and is 
nearly half a mile in breadth. It surface is a mass of 
ruins, shapeless and hideous. Ruin sits triumphant here. 
Not even the plowshare of ancient history, which has run 
over so many ruins, could prevail here to penetrate the 
mass. A small part of the island is cultivated, but a large 
portion still remains in the condition I have described, and 
so will remain so long as the world stands. Fragments 
of statues, a gateway of the time of the mighty son of 
Philip, an altar whose fire was long ago extinguished in 
the blood of its worshipers ; these and similar relics re- 
main ; but nothing to indicate the shape, extent, or 
date of any of the buildings that formerly covered the 
island. 

On the shore a group of Nubian girls met us with 
their small worked baskets and mats, and a few antiques, 
for sale. They were the first specimens of the Nubians 
we had seen at their homes, and they were as difierent 
a race from the Egyptians as we ourselves. Black in 
color, but with sharj^ly-cut features and beautiful eyes, 
they are as fine-looking a people as the world can 
produce. Nor do they hide their beauties. The full 
costume of the unmarried females is a simple leathern 
girdle around the waist, with a fringe hanging a few 
inches below it. There was one girl among those at 
Elephantine that was exceedingly beautiful. She was 
tall, slender, and graceful as a deer, and quite as timid. 



THE AMERICAN AGENT. 255 

She would not approach us near enough to oiFer her mats 
for sale, but coming within ten feet would start suddenly, 
and spring into the air like a fawn and dart away, and 
then coming slowly back approach us as nearly again, 
only to retreat in the same way. Her face was the soul 
of fun, and her eyes were brimful of laughter. We 
watched her for half an hour, offering her money to in- 
duce her to come nearer, but we were obliged at length 
to lay it down and let her take it up when we had gone 
three or four yards away, and then she stooped with her 
eyes fixed on us, never removing her gaze. We wandered 
over the island until sunset and dark, and then, when the 
moon was bright, we rowed up the river into the gorge 
between the island and the rocky bluff above Es Souan, 
and let our boat drift slowly down by the ruined temples 
and the dark rocks. 

I found the cabin of the Phantom in possession of a 
fat and comfortable looking Copt, in a rich dress, who 
called himself American agent at Es Souan. I knew that 
Mustapha at Luxor was the only agent on the Nile above 
Cairo, but the fellow was so sincere about it that I couldn't 
doubt his own belief that he held some such official ap- 
pointment. 

As he wanted the opportunity to make a little money 
out of us, and as I wanted nothing at Es Souan so much as 
three or four handsome koorbashes as ladies' riding-whips 
(for they carve them very skillfully), I requested him to 
bring some down early the next morning, as we were 
going to leave in the forenoon ; and so getting rid of him, 
we had time for dinner, coffee, and profound slumber. 

Early in the morning Trumbull and myself walked out 
alone into the vast cemetery that almost surrounds Es 
Souan. The tombs extend over miles square of desert, 
and date from the very earHest periods of Islam. It is the 
largest and the most desolate burial-place in the world. 



256 HASTY BURIAL. 

No tree sheds its leaves on the mounds, no blade of grass 
springs up to cheer the mourners with the emblem of 
resurrection. Not one solitary palm looks heavenward 
from this dry, sandy waste of death. 

Near the village, just at sunrise, we saw a funeral cere- 
mony, but did not pause. We wandered an hour in the 
lioUows and over the hills of this curious Golgotha, and 
then climbed a hill that overlooks the outlet of the cata- 
ract, and lay down on the sandy summit to gaze on 
Elephantine and the Nile. 

" Ya Braheem Effendi — Braheem Effendi." 

The shout came as if from the tombs themselves. Deep 
down in the hollow we saw two Arabs leading horses, 
and they seeing us, came up the hill to say that the 
governor of Es Souan was at his divvan, and had sent 
horses to request us to honor him with a morning visit. 
We had not yet breakfasted, but promising to see him 
after breakfast (he had called on us the evening previous, 
and wasted a half-hour of his and our time in dull formali- 
ties of talk), we cantered down to the boat. 

The soi-disant American agent was waiting for us out- 
side the cabin with his pile of koorbashes. Ferraj had 
wisely kept him out lest he should spoil by his pres- 
ence one of Hajji Mohammed's inimitable breakfasts. He 
apologized for not coming earlier, as he said his son had 
died in the night and he was detained in the morning to 
bury him. He was as cool about it as if he had sj^oken 
of a dog, and this sudden change in his family since he 
had parted from us the evening before — a son sick in bed 
then, but buried three feet deep now — did not appear to 
him a matter worth mentioning except by way of apology 
for his delay. Such hasty burial is the eastern custom. 
Doubtless this was the burial we had seen. 

The expense of taking the boat up the cataract was, as 
the reader already knows, no concern of ours, but Abd- 



CATARACT REISES. 257 

el-Atti was in a fair way to be swindled unless we would 
aid him in person, and we consented. 

Every one who lias read books on Egypt is familiar 
with the fact, that the first cataract of the Nile has been 
from time immemorial under the charge of a reis or cap- 
tain, who monopolized the fees for dragging boats up its 
rapids. Of late years the increase of travel has been so 
great that there are four reises in partnership who at- 
tend to the business ; and it is so profitable withal that 
they have a great many other persons in the partnership, 
even to the governor at Es Souan himself, who, for the 
sake of having his own boat taken up free, as well as for 
the sake of part of the pay, never interferes with the reises 
of the cataract in their rapacity. 

But we were fortified with a firman from his highness ; 
and if it were of no use here, it was not likely that it 
would be any where. Besides this, a letter from Latif 
Pasha to the governor at Es Souan, and another from 
Abd-el-Kader Bey, instructed him to pay special atten- 
tion to us. We accordingly sent him word to have the 
reises of the cataract at his diwan, where we would meet 
them. As soon as breakfast was over we went up to the 
residence, where we found the governor already in con- 
clave with the shellalee^ or men of the cataract. 

Old Reis Hassan was conspicuous for his gray bear<^l 
and broad shoulders. He is celebrated in story, as was his 
father before him. Bag Boug was a giant, a bony Nub- 
ian, gaunt and stout-framed, with an eye like a devil's, 
and an arm like a Titan's. The other two, Ibrahim and 
Selim, were younger and more silent ; but the four looked 
abundantly able to lift the boat on their shoulders and 
carry it over the hills. We had manifestly broken in on 
a consultation among the worthies, in which the gover- 
nor's son-in-law, a sharp-looking Greek, had taken a con- 
spicuous part. He was apparently governor of the old man. 



258 A SLOW BARGAIN. 

We sat down on clingy cushions, and accepted pipes 
and coffee before the conference began, and at length 
opened the subject by requesting the governor to inform 
us what the reis of the cataract proposed to do for us. 

The governor hesitated a moment, and his ready son- 
in-law answered for him, that the reis said our boat was 
too heavy and large to go up the cataract at all. 

We smoked a while in silence, deliberating on this com- 
munication, and, in the mean time, I w^as looking over the 
faces of the four reises, and studying out their separate 
capacities and influence with each other. 

" Our boat has been up the cataract every year for four 
years." 

This was no answer. That a thing has been done once 
or four times is no reason that it can be done again in 
Egypt. 

" She will break. The water is very low this year. It 
was earlier when she went up before." 

" It was February last." 

This was a point-blank difference, but it produced no 
effect. We conversed a few moments in English, and 
then smoked silently a while. 

" Very well ; we have given up the idea of going up 
the cataract." 

" There are very good boats to be had at Es Souan 
that will go uj) the cataract easily." 

This meant that the governor or his son and the shel- 
lalee had a boat that they would like to force us to hire. 

" There isn't a boat within five hundred miles of Es 
Souan fit for an American to go in. We are going 
back." 

This was a poser. 

" Perhajjs, if you took out the kitchen, the stores, and 
all the baggage, she might be light enough." 

" Perhaps she would ; but if we go up at all we go as 



VIRTUE OF A FIRMAN. 259 

we are. But we have given up going. We will go down 
the river this afternoon. Perhaps the governor will for- 
ward a letter for us to Abd-el-Kader Bey ?" 

There was a strong hint in this suggestion, and the 
governor felt it. There was another brief time of smoke 
and silence, and Bag Boug then growled out his opinion. 
He did not see any difficulty in taking the boat up if there 
were men enough to pull her. But it would cost a great 
deal. 

*' How much ?" 

A long silence. Hassan spoke suggestingly, " Fifteen 
hundred piastres." 

I looked at him, at the governor, at his son-in-law, laid 
down my chibouk, gathered my shawl around me, and 
walked toward the door. 

"Tell the governor I will send a letter for Abd-el- 
Kader Bey, which I wish him to despatch immediately, 
and we will sail as soon as possible." 

The governor sprang to his feet, and the reises united 
in making a new proposition. One thousand piastres 
would cover it all. I came out and left them. Then 
Abd-el-Atti thundered at them. 

" What is the use of the effendi having his highness's 
letter if this is all he gets by it ? When did you ever 
get a thousand piastres for taking a boat up the cataract ? 
You are all a set of thieves together. I understand you, 
and Braheem Effendi understands you, and I can tell you 
that when Abd-el-Kader Bey hears of it he will make you 
move up here. He will understand it, too; eh ? What 
do you think he will say, eh ? when he hears that the 
gentleman with his highness's letter could not go up the 
cataract, eh ?" 

They endeavored to soothe him, and gradually came 
down in their offers, and at length he got a chance to 
speak to old Hassan alone, and whispered to him a promise 



260 BARGAIN CONCLUDED. 

of an extra bucksheesh above the contract price, unknown 
to the others. This converted Hassan, and he yielded 
slowly to the offer of four hundred piastres, which the 
others finally came to most reluctantly, and then it was 
closed, and I returned to the room. 

The next question came to be discussed : this was the 
when. It was now eleven o'clock, and of course too late 
to go up to-day. 

" Why too late ?" 

*' No one can go up without starting very early in the 
morning." 

" How long does it take ?" 

" Two days ; one day to go up to the foot of the last 
fall, the next to go up the gate (which is the first great 
fall at the head of the cataract)." 

" Two days ! In the name of the Prophet w^hat is the 
use of taking two days ? It ought to be done in four 
hours, and it can and must." 

" Impossible !" 

" There's no such word in America. The thing must 
be done. It is now eleven — not yet noon. We must be 
at Philae by sunset. We will not spend another night 
here, or in the cataract. Up the river or down, which- 
ever the reises please," and I left them disputing. 

At length they came to it, and then the troop came 
down to the river, the old governor leading, and the pro- 
cession following. We had crossed to Elephantine again, 
but returned when we saw the procession, and instantly 
made all ready for a start. The governor remained long 
enough to smoke a pipe, and endeavored to retrieve his 
character by telling all sorts of stories of the shellalee, 
laying the blame of the slow contract to them. I sus- 
pected him the more for his anxiety to be rid of the im- 
putation, and haWng bowed him ashore, we were ready 
to start. 



ALL READY. 261 

For the benefit of travelers who pay their own way 
up the Nile, I record the terms of the contract as con- 
cluded. 

For four hundred piastres they were to take us up and 
down the cataract, but in addition to this there was a 
private agreement with old Hassan to give him a hun- 
dred and fifty more. Half the money to be paid on the 
safe delivery of the boat at Philae, and the other half on 
her safe return to Es Souan after the completion of our 
Nubian voyage. 

Mr. and Mrs. Martin were going no further than Es 
Souan, but joined us on board the Phantom to go up the 
cataract" Avith us, and return from Philge on donkeys. 

The reises were in good spirits, and as well satisfied as 
if their utmost demands had been yielded to. They only 
begged us to inform every body, as they would, that we 
had paid a thousand piastres, and help them raise the price 
this year. 

We stowed awaj' all glass and movables, lashed every 
thing that was likely to be thrown down, and then, with 
a shout and a salute of ten guns, we dashed away before 
a grand breeze, and, rounding the bluff of black basalt, 
which frowns over the upper end of Elephantine, we 
breasted the last rush of the rapids, which are called the 
Cataract of the Nile. 




^4. 

The cataract is not a cataract in any sense to Ameri- 
cans. It is but a rapid, broken up by thousands of bould- 
ers of granite and black basalt. One might well imagine 
that here occurred the battle between Jupiter and the 
Titans, and that the rocks hurled against the throne of 
the Thunderer fell back here, shattered and broken, but 
gigantic still. Every where through the cataract these 
rocks lie, piled on each other, or singly, black and pol- 
ished, above the foaming river. The cataract is not nar- 
row. The river, in fact, spreads out as wide as in any 
other part of its length, and the rocks lie across its en- 
tire breadth. The length of the cataract is not more than 
four miles. The principal descent of water is at its head, 
where the river comes down through a narrow pass called 
the Gate. Below this it is broken up, and turned, and 
vexed, and dashed hither and thither, but there is no 
great fall at any point. 

Still the w^ater was black, and dashed furiously against 
our bows, as if to warn us back from the far-famed bar- 
riers of Syene. A moment later we swept around the 
point, the rocks closed before and behind us, and we were 
in a lake-like inclosure. But there was nothing lake-like 
in the waves that dashed around us as never lake was 
vexed. The Avind was now a gale, and howled over our 



ASCENT or THE CATARACT. 263 

heads, and drove the boat into the current, whose strength 
increased at each moment. Two miles of this navigation, 
turning frequently short around rocks, now skirting the 
edge of a foaming mass, now sliding with a grating jar 
over a smooth stone that lay hidden under the boiling 
foam, brought us to a point where the river came down 
several passages through the rocks into the one broad 
stream up which we had come. 

Selecting the easternmost passage, down which the 
waters poured in yellow foam, we breasted the current 
with a full sail and straining spars. The Phantom rushed 
at it as if she knew what was before her, and enjoyed the 
contest. Just so I have seen her gallant namesake breast 
the rushing ebb-tide off Watch-hill, in a stiff north-easter, 
coming up before it, and rolling heavily, but plunging 
through bravely. 

The water flew from the bow, and the short ascent was 
almost won, when she hesitated, trembled, and then, 
slowly yielding, she paused. 

We were all on deck among the men, the three ladies 
seated in front of the cabin door, and the gentlemen 
standing by them. There was just wind enough to hold 
us where we were ; and we stood in the middle of the 
stream, neither progressing nor receding. 

Reis Hassan looked up stream and down stream, now 
on this and now on that side. Selim was steadfast at the 
tiller, Ibrahim was on the look-out forward, and Bag 
Boug was every where at once. 

The old man watched the full and straining sail ; and 
as he saw her slowly yield and give back to the heavy 
rush of the river, he shouted for a rope, and, seizing the 
coils of the heavy lihan (the tow-rope), dropped his tur- 
ban, two tarbouches, and all his clothes, quick as light- 
ning, and sprang into the furious current. Ten strokes 
of his powerful arms, and he was on a black rock, around 



264 SHE STRIKES. 

which the water was raging. From this he dived again, 
np stream, and disappeared. The next instant he came 
above water, far up stream. No human power could 
swim that distance in that current. He had, doubtless, • 
helped himself along by rocks on the bottom of the 
stream ; but he had never let go his hold on the heavy 
rope. A dozen Nubians followed him, made the rope . 
fast around a rock directly ahead of us, and then, 
throwing themselves into the stream, came flying down 
to the boat, which they caught as they swej)t by, and 
swung themselves in, and all hands commenced haul- 
ing with a tremendous chorus of " Hah, Allah !" All this 
occupied a briefer time than I have taken to describe it, 
and the boat was still breasting the stream ; but now she 
began to go up, up, with every repeat of the chorus, un- 
til, just as she was on the very crest of the rapid, and en- 
tering the smooth water, crack ! The rope flew high in 
the air as it parted, and she sagged over to the side of 
the passage, and thumped heavily on the rocks, where 
she rested. 

The shouts that arose from fifty Arab throats di'owned 
the roar of the waters as this mishap occurred ; but in 
a moment twenty men were in the water, other ropes 
were carried forward, and then, with a long, steady haul, 
she was swung off* the rocks into the stream, and up into 
a safe eddy at the top of this part of the cataract, the men 
swimming to her from all directions, and she flying on be- 
fore the wind to the next place of trial. 

Again, as before, the wind carried us half way up this ; 
and then the black skins flashed through the water, and 
ropes were sent out to the rocks, and she was drawn into 
an eddy half way up, where she rested again a moment. 
Here I was not a little surprised to see her headed into a 
narrow passage, not ten yards wide, down which the 
water fell a foot or eiurhtecn inches in a hundred feet. 



BAG BOUG AND THE BRANDY. 265 

The broader stream foamed and dashed high up on the 
rocks, around which it flowed. This passage seemed 
deeper, and Reis Hassan knew his business. It was evi- 
dent that sheer Hfting alone could get the boat up this 
fall, and three ropes were got out while we lay in the 
eddy. Old Hassan sprang to the rocks, and threw a 
handful of dust into the air. In an instant men started up 
in every part of the rocky bed of the Nile. The valley 
that a moment before had seemed to be only the abode 
of rocks and the great river, where from hill to hill there 
was only black stone and white foam, now swarmed with 
life, and three hundred men, women, and children, rushed 
down to the boat to aid in the hauling, and claim their 
share of the reward. The children, whose name was 
Legion, stood on the shore and shouted " Bucksheesh 
Howajji !'' in every tone conceivable, while some threw 
themselves into the current, and came dancing down the 
water, and went by us in a twinkling, soon coming up, 
with their logs or floats on their shoulders, to claim their 
pay. 

We were ready for another attempt. Bag Boug made 
his appearance at the cabin door, where I was standing. 
He was wet, and cold, and shivering. He begged hard. 
Bag Boug is always wet, and cold, and shivering, and al- 
ways wants brandy. We had a lot on board, reserved 
for such purposes. Possibly the reader remembers my 
purchase of it in the Mouski from the ancient gentleman 
into whose arras my donkey threw me. Old Hassan 
never drinks, and I did not care how drunk the others 
were, for he was, after all, the man of the party. I 
handed Bag Boug the glass — a large tumbler — and a 
bottle to pour for himself. He filled the tumbler to the 
brim, and poured it down his throat as if it were water, 
and while I looked on in astonishment he repeated the 
dose. On my honor that shellalee drank a full pint of 

12 



266 ACOOLCOOK. 

raw brandy without a wink, and there was not in his con- 
duct afterward the shghtest indication that he Avas af- 
fected by it. His throat must be copper to stand such 
stuff as that was. 

We were now all ready ; and fifty men took hold of 
the ropes, and as many more stood on the rocks to keep 
her off and push when they could. Up, up, up ! But she 
paused again. Twenty good steady men to haul would 
have sent her up ; but the Arabs pulled one at a time, 
and they could not move her. As she went back, we all 
sprang to the ropes, and three Americans hauling did 
more than thirty Arabs. She went forward, the water 
parted over her bow, she shot up the fall and on into the 
eddy before the gate of the cataract. 

Down this gate the Nile pours in one solid stream, 
parting instantly around a hundred rocks. As we shot 
forward in the eddy before the strong wind, we struck a 
rock, and ran high up on it. Fifty men were under her 
instantly, swimming till they found points of rock on 
which to rest their feet, and then lifting and pushing, and 
as she sank off and floated, they swam hither and thither 
like fish, and Ave ran on to the foot of the gate. 

Here large and strong preparations Avere necessary for 
the final pull, and Avhile these Avere in process Ave Avent on 
shore to see hoAv the boat looked in the current. This 
was a view not to be lost ; and Ave clambered on the 
rocks to a high point overlooking the boat and the croAvd, 
which Avas steadily increasing. I think there Avere a hun- 
dred naked boys and girls around us vociferating for 
bucksheesh. Whips and clubs Avere of no use Avhatever. 
They thronged us. 

The boat certainly looked gallantly, and most gallant 
of all Avas Hajji Mohammed, our prince of cooks. I think ^^ 
I haA'e mentioned that tlie kitchen occupies the extreme 
boAV of the boat, forward of the mast ; and. as there is no 



PHIL^ THE BEAUTIFUL. 207 

bowsprit or forward rigging, there was nothing to inter- 
rupt the view forward from his stand. But he was 
steadily at work boning a fowl, and attending to his 
usual duties as quietly as if she were lying at anchor in a 
calm. A dozen naked Nubians were sitting forward of 
the kitchen, and clinging to its sides, but he paid no at- 
tention to them wiiatever, nor did he once cease his 
work in all the passage of the cataract. Enough for him 
that Ave had ordered an early dinner, and he was hasten- 
ing it as fast as possible. 

I^ow they announced the boat ready for her last 
trial. An immense hawser was made flist literally around 
the boat, and this was long enough for two hundred men 
to take hold of. The sail was stowed away ; no one could 
manage it in this j^lace. And now with a long steady 
song, and as steady a pull as they could make, the 
Phanto7n entered the gate and mounted the rapid, and 
emerged from Egypt into Nubia up the last reach of the 
cataract. Tumbling overboard every body but the reises 
and their immediate attendants, with the sails shaken out 
to the breeze, we swept on, now to the left, around a 
lofty pile of rocks, and now to the right, opening before 
us the loveliest view in all Egypt, perhaps in all the world, 
the burial-place of Osiris, the beautiful Phila?. 

The island of Phike, lying at the head of the cataract 
of the Nile, is in one of the most wild and picturesque 
spots on the face of the earth. High black rocks, heajDed 
up to the sky, lie all around it ; and from any point of 
view, it is a jewel set in a rough inclosure, to make it the 
more beautiful by contrast. The entire surface of the 
island is covered with ruins, the great temple of Isis, 
which is the most j^erfect among them, occupying the 
western side. It is not of a very ancient period. One 
learns in Egypt to call every thing modern that is not 
three thousand years old ; and the temples of the Ptole- 



268 REVERENCE FOR THE OLD. 

mies are of less interest after one begins to learn the his- 
tory of the Pharaohs of older times, and look on their 
monuments. It is a strange passion this that men have 
for the old. What is it in the intellect of man that makes 
him do such homage to age — to great age ? Is it be- 
cause we always admire the inaccessible, and that we, 
whose dust holds together but seventy years, therefore 
admire the dust that has outlived thirty centuries? Not 
so ; because the hills and mountains of our own country 
are old enough for all that. It is not age alone. It is 
something in the fact, that human hands wrought on 
these rocks ; that human intellect shaped and planned 
their order. It is the memorial of dead men's thoughts 
to which we bow in reverence ; and perhaps it is some- 
what akin to our own desires after immortality. Per- 
haps the feverish thirst of the boy for fame — the thirst 
that long life can never satisfy — is somewhat similar 
to the profound awe with which he looks on the carved 
name of an ancient king, or the exquisite sculpture of an 
ancient artist. And men are but grown-up boys ; and 
the boy's anxiety for fame may have vanished among 
the more immediate and practical desires of manhood, 
but the admiration for the fame of others, and the venera- 
tion for the mere approximation to immortality which he 
fancies he sees in the ruins of old temples and palaces, 
lingers with him ; nor does it leave him ever. 

But there is something more than all this, which we all 
feel, but which none of us can well explain, when we look 
on an ancient ruin, and which makes the difference be- 
tween old hills and old houses. If one fell on the ruin of 
an ancient shop, wherein men of old times bought and 
sold goods and wares, there would not be any very pro- 
found admiration excited, nor would he sit down long to 
reflect on the scenes which had occurred within those 
walls. Still less did he discover a butcher's stall or a 



EMOTIONS OF LONG AGO. 269 

drinking-shop. The ordinary employments of men in 
former ages interest us, but only momentarily. 

We stroll through Pompeii with interest, astonishment, 
and melancholy delight, if I may use the expression, and 
we remember its shops and counters as curious places, but 
we scarcely think of the men that stood in those shops 
and bought and sold by those weights and measures. 
But what thrilling imagination does that mould of a 
young breast arouse! The memorials of the hearts of 
ancient men and women, of their great emotions, their 
passions, most challenge our respect and fix our minds. 
The houses in which they lived remind us of these, in 
that we recall the home scenes, the thousand affections of 
home ; and man's love always sanctifies a place. But the 
palaces in which they reigned, where all day long, and 
all the year long, were heard the sounds of royalty, with 
which are always mingled the fiercest emotions of hu- 
manity, the temples in which their altar fires burned, 
and their hearts burned as w^ell, these are the places in 
which the foot of the thoughtful man lingers, from day- 
light and sunshine till sunset and moonlight hallow them 
with softer rays, and around which he sees always in sun- 
shine or moonlight the flitting shadows of ancient memo- 
ries. Altars are crumbled, and altar fires have long been 
quenched, but the memory of men's worship remains to 
sanctify, and the impress of their tears is visible in the 
crumbling pavements. 

Philae was the most sacred spot in Egypt. Hither, 
from all directions, men came for worship. But none 
were admitted to set their feet on the sacred island ex- 
cept by special order. Here was the fabled burial-place 
of Osiris, or near here, for antiquarians dispute much on 
this point. But in the temple of Isis is now found a re- 
markable subterranean vault, near the holy of holies, from 
which a concealed stairway passes through the solid walls 



270 MOONLIGHT ON PHIL^. 

of the temple up to the roof, and which gives every indi- 
cation of having been used by the priests for their secret 
purposes, possibly to show to strangers as the grave of 
the great Osiris. 

But for the present I have nothing to do with ancient 
Philie. It is only the modern ; the palm-trees and the 
ruins ; the fallen altars and columns that I have to speak 
of. They lay in the utmost beauty of desolateness as the 
moonlight came over them that night, and we wandered 
about among their wastes. 

Again I might write, as I have written before, never 
was such moonlight — certainly never was such a place for 
moonlight. It fell on the columns of the ancient temj^le 
at the upper end of the island, and the small obelisk 
seemed to grow larger in the silver light. It lingered in 
the great court of the temple of Isis, as if it loved the 
memories that resided there. But purest, holiest of all, 
it fell in the open temple on the eastern side of the island, 
where Miriam and I sat silently as the night swept along 
with its load of glory, while the others wandered up and 
down the island looking vainly for one spot more beauti- 
ful than another. 

Our American friends were with us still, and it was 
now time for their return to Es Souan. Donkeys had 
been ordered to be ready for them on the oj^posite side 
of the river, and, taking them in the small boat, I pulled 
across to the main land. The boys stood under the palm- 
trees, but w^hen they were mounted and ready to be 
away, I could not permit them to go alone and un- 
attended through the wildest and perhaps the most dan- 
gerous mountain pass in Egypt ; for the men of the 
cataract — the sJiellalee, as they are called — are not much 
more merciful or human in disposition than the wolves 
and hyenas which abound among their hills, and I felt 
unwilling to trust my friends — one of them a young 



THE PASS OF THE CATARACT. 27l 

and delicate lady — to the mercy of either class of brutes. 
So I accompanied them myself, with a six-barrelled Colt 
and an endless volcanic repeater. I walked along by 
their side in pleasant talk across the arm of the desert 
on which stands the village, under a branching sycamore 
that grew up from the very sand itself, and then into the 
wilderness of rocks that lie as the hands of the Almighty 
cast them, here and there and everywhere, on the east 
bank of the river. It was a strange group that, for such 
a scene and such a night. Sometimes the donkeys 
climbed the sides of rocks on which their feet seemed 
scarcely able to retain foothold ; often they passed 
through narrow chasms, that seemed impassable till we 
had tried them. The hills grew higher on the right, the 
noise of the cataract louder on the left, the scene more 
wild, the moonlight more beautiful. And so we con- 
tinued until I had accompanied them beyond the mount- 
ain pass and into the more open and safe country which 
lies along the line of the portage from Es Souan around 
the cataract, and here I left them to pursue their way 
downward to their boat, and thence to Cairo, while I 
turned my back and again resumed my way southward 
toward the tropic, toward Abou Simbal and the second 
cataract. 

I know no point in my wanderings at which I felt so 
much the distance from home, or that I was leaving all 
that bound and connected me to that home as here. 

Behind me lay Egypt. Close behind me the only two 
Americans (except ourselves) within almost a thousand 
miles, had their faces turned northward, and were leaving 
us to our lonesome journey. Around me was desolation, 
its very abode, where the rock and desert held every 
thing. At my right the roar of the rapid, sounding as 
when the Greeks heard it, warned me, as it warned the 
Romans of old, that I had passed " far Syene," and that 



2Y2 PHiL^. 

the world lay behind me and unknown wastes before. 
Grim, silent, solemn rocks, lifting their dark countenances 
in the air, looked on me with stern gaze, that sometimes 
seemed, in the clear moonlight, to change into a smile of 
contempt, and sometimes into a sneer of derision. What 
was I, a puny mortal of six feet, in these slow-coming 
years, what was I, that I should be walking so carelessly 
and recklessly along that mighty river, by the far-famed 
cataract, in that light that had guided the footsteps of 
kings and i:)riests ages ago, among those stately rocks 
that had been the witness-bearers of forty centuries ? 
What was T, that I should look with unshrinking eyes on 
all these ancient memorials, and troll a song — a dashing 
modern song — as I walked among them ? For an in- 
stant a shudder came over me, and I verily feared lest 
the old guardians of the barrier should stop me tl:^re. 
Bat that was a momentary half-defined feeling that van- 
ished on the instant, and I gathered my wits together as 
well as I was able, and walked on over sand and stone, as 
I fancied millions had walked, in years when there was a 
shrine for devout worship on the beautiful island, on 
moonhght pilgrimages to Philse. 




X6^ 



Wf 1 ! M 




I WAS weary. I know not why, 
but I was weary that night, and I 
thought, as I trod the wild path 
among the cliffs, of a fireside in a 
far off land, by which could I but 
have warmed my feet, I w^ould have 
lain down content to sleep such 
sleep as God giveth his beloved, and 
wander never again. I wondered 
whetlier I, really knew what sleep was. Sometimes I 
thought I had not slept for months, and I had not, save 
only that dreamy, restless sleep that is filled with visions 
of dear faces looking on me through impassable bars, or 
out of unapproachable distances. And that night, as I 
walked along, the moonlight falling all around me out of 
that fathomless sky, I felt as if to lie down on the sand 
would be blessed, and to sleep there glorious, if I could 
but dream once more of home. 

For an instant, lonesome and weary, though I had with 
me the dearest company in all the world — for an instant I 
thought of proposing to turn the boat, and go down the 
cataract, and northward to the sea ; but the next instant 
drove all such thoughts far off. 

I have described the pass. The high black rocks, 

12* 



274 JACKALS. > 

seamed and riven with ancient convulsions of nature in 
the childhood of this old world, now towered on my left, 
and the river ran blackly and with a heavy roar on the 
right. A low, long, snarling bark or yell startled and 
stopped me. 

It came from the river-side, five hundred yards before 
me, and was followed by the quick barking of the jackals, 
of whom I saw three or four dash across the path and 
disappear in the direction of the sound. 

The first bark was not a jackal, nor w^as it a fox. So 
far as I can learn there is no distinction now made in 
Egypt between those two animals, unless in the Delta. I 
have shot a number of them, and the people call them 
taleb (fox), and cibou Vhoussein (jackal), indiscriminately ; 
nor am I able to learn that there is any other animal 
known to them as a jackal than this, which is but a small 
fox. 

But that the voice did not proceed from one of these I 
was very certain, and the more so as their sharp, piercing 
bark now arose furiously and increased in noise ; so that 
I imagined a council of the little rascals disturbed in a 
banquet by a wolf or hyena. The prospect of getting a 
shot at either of these animals was too good to be lost, 
and I examined my pistols and advanced cautiously in the 
direction of the angry disputants. 

I had proceeded two hundred yards or so when a 
second loud and now more fierce yell or howl inter- 
rupted the sounds, which were then renewed with tenfold 
earnestness ; but one of the foxes was snarling, howling, 
and yelping in a broken, disconnected way that could 
not be mistaken. Some strong compression was on his 
lungs. He was, in fact, in other hands than his own. I 
judged, as it afterward proved correctly, that the wolf 
had made a dash among his foes and seized one of them. 

I started on now at a fast run, and at length the ascent 



A WOLF HUNT. 275 

of a rock over which the path led brought me in sight of 
the battle. A large wolf — large here, but what I should 
call at home a very small one — was standing over the 
body of a dead donkey on the shore of the river, and half 
a dozen foxes were fighting him in true Arab style, with 
terrible voices, but at a safe distance. One poor little 
villain of a fox was in his jaws, and he would shake him 
for amusement occasionally. There was no need of it. 
He was dead, or shamming dead, and I do not think there 
was any sham about it. There certainly was none when 
he dropped him, as he did a moment afterward, when a 
ball from my Colt went down through his shoulder and 
broke the bone. The howl that he uttered on that ni^rht- 
air rings in my ear this moment. It made the rocks of 
Biggeh echo. It filled the whole pass with its unearthly 
sound. It was a long wild cry of intolerable anguish and 
pain. 

He threw uj? his head as it escaped him, as if he were 
invoking the gods of Lycopolis to avenge him, and then 
leaped into the water. A second ball bounded from the 
stone as he left it, and went glancing over the river in the 
moonlight, leaving a sparkling track ; and a third dashed' 
the water about him, if it did not hit him, as he swam out 
for the current, Avhich swept him downward, and I lost him. 

The silence that followed was as startling as the cry 
had been. Only the river among the rocks sounded as 
steadily as it had sounded through the centuries, and the 
moonlight seemed to be in harmony with the sound. 

Ten minutes afterward I came out by the village on 
the sand above the pass, and we entered it in search of 
our new pilot, a shellalee, who was to take charge of the 
boat to the second cataract, and back to Philce. 

Under a tree, the sycamore fig, in the middle of the 
village, was a curious seat which is not uncommon in 
Nubia. It was circular, made of mud, on a raised plat- 



276 HASSAN'S MOTHER. 

form of the same material. A seat or diwan ran round 
this platform, having a high back, so that a dozen or 
twenty persons could sit here in a circle, all facing the 
centre. It was occupied by women, who were busy talk- 
ing over the village gossip, and who answered very 
pleasantly our inquiries after Hassan. He had gone to 
the next village, which, like this, consisted of two rows 
of mud houses, a hundred yards apart, with the moon- 
light on the yellow sand between them. We walked 
through them, shouting *' Hassan ! Hassan !" and at 
length he emerged from a low doorway, and replied to 
his name. 

He was six feet two at the least, and black as ebony. 
He did not know that we expected to sail that night or 
he would have been on board ; so, hastening off for his 
baggage (a pipe, and an empty bag in which to bring 
home dates from the upper country), he promised to join 
us at the small boat, and we walked on. We found her 
where we left her, and Hajji Hassan and Abdallah both 
asleep in the bottom. What did they care for the moon- 
light and Phila3 ? And yet, I dare to say, that nowhere, 
on the face of the earth, is there a moonlight scene more 
rich in all that reaches and rouses the heart of man than 
was that same view. I looked on it as one looks on the 
faces of a dream when he knows he is dreaming, and fears 
to move or approach lest they vanish. 

At length Hassan Shellalee, made his appearance, ac- 
companied by his mother. She was an old woman, and 
though it was but a two weeks' parting, she wept bit- 
terly, and embraced him again and again. When we 
pushed off, she begged me to treat him kindly, and then 
knelt on the moonlit bank and prayed for him : *' God 
bless him ! God keep my son ! Allah, Allah, bring him 
back safe !" and, as we crossed, we could hear her mourn- 
ful voice sounding over the river. 



OLD WOMEN IN EGYPT. 277 

I know not what comfort there is in all the universe for 
an old woman among these miserable people, or what 
hope there is in her heart to keep out the cold. To the 
young, life is always bright, and the future presents joys 
in anticipation, as well to the poor as to the rich, which 
are enough to make them glad. But to the old, with 
dim eyes gazing on the sand, and feeble footsteps scarce 
prevailing to pass through it, without love, without God, 
without heaven, saving only the uncertain belief that it is 
remotely possible that they may have souls — a belief ut- 
terly rejected by half their teachers — and, even when 
trusting to that belief, entirely forbidden to expect, in 
any future life, to meet the beloved of this ; hojDeless of 
ever renewing the embraces that death has unlocked ; 
hopeless of ever opening their eyes again on son or hus- 
band, daughter or mother ; to them I know not what 
spirit there can be to live, what endearment to life, unless 
it be the horror of death itself. 

For if the grave were pleasant, they might long for its 
repose. To lie down in some pleasant spot under the 
trees and lind rest, even though it were dreamless and 
eternal ; to sleep where the breath of the wind would be 
laden with odors of roses ; to have resurrection in the 
sweet scent of flowers and shrubs ; to have sunlight love 
to linger over one's place of rest, and moon and starlight 
fall with delight among myrtle leaves — all this would be 
delicious hope to them, if this might be. But a grave 
here ! God forbid that I die here ! to be laid, coffinless, 
three feet deep in the dry sand, and to-night disentombed 
by the jackals, or to-morrow by the wind. Such burial, 
and no immortality, who would not abhor ? 

We strolled an hour longer on the island. The moon- 
light was brighter each moment. Trumbull and Amy sat 
down in the front of the great Temple of Isis, and I could 
hear him occasionally discoursing to the ruins and the 



278 EGYPT AND NUBIA. 

moon in almost every language with wliicli those hal- 
lowed spots were familiar. Miriam and myself sat near 
them ; but we selected the shade, and looked out of it on 
the wild scenery with indescribable admiration and awe. 
We could not tear ourselves away. It was midnight; 
but still we lingered in front of the Temple of Isis ; still 
gazed up the shining river from the corridor near the 
small obelisk ; still sat on the terrace and looked over at 
Biggeh and its lofty rocks. Yielding at length to the 
j)ersuasive breeze that freshened every hour, we came 
down to the boat, and while we slept she sprang away 
before it, and in the morning was far up among the 
mountains of Nubia. 

We were told by the reises of the cataract, that our 
boat was the tirst which had been taken up the cataract 
in a single day. They solemnly asseverated the truth of 
this, but I did not believe them. Nevertheless, at noon 
the next day, just twenty-four hours after leaving Es 
Souan, we were fifty-two miles from that place, having 
ascended the cataract and passed the evening at PhilaB 
in the meantime. This, I have no doubt, surpasses any 
thing ever before done by a traveler's boat. The wind 
failed us in the afternoon, and I walked a while on shore 
taking my first view of Nubia. 

The diflference between Egypt and Nubia is marked 
and great. Not alone in the color of the inhabitants, but 
in almost every respect. Egypt may perhaps average 
five miles in width, exclusive of the river. Nubia aver- 
ages just about as many rods. This is seriously true. 
The mountains of rock rise abruptly a few yards, or at 
most a few hundred feet, from the river's edge, and in 
large portions of Nubia nothing is cultivated but the 
actual slope of the bank, one or two rods in width. The 
inhabitants live on the scanty supply of beans and doura 
(corn) which their small amount of land yields, but chiefly 



MISERABLE LIFE. 279 

on dates, for palm-trees abound, and their produce is most 
excellent. The people are generally industrious. They 
must Avork or starve. Their clothing is simple, many of 
them being nearly naked, and all the unmarried females 
wearing the fringe around their waists, and in cold 
weather wrapping a piece of cotton cloth loosely about 
them. 

The women plait their hair in heavy folds, which they 
soak with castor-oil and w*ith butter. Hideous shining 
masses cover their heads, which they exhibit with all the 
pride of a city lady, and they like the intensely disgust- 
ing odor quite as well as we like the most delicate ge- 
ranium. 

The people are quarrelsome, notwithstanding their in- 
dustry, and many Nubian villages have been burned, and 
many Nubian bodies have swung between trees and 
ground for this bad trait of character, without j)i*oducing 
very great effect. 

One of the features of Nubia is the sakea, or water- 
wheel, for raising water from the river to irrigate the 
land. It is seen at every hundred rods, and heard all 
day and all night long, creaking a most melancholy and 
mournful creak. The small amount of land which each 
sakea waters, makes the contrast with Egypt more 
forcible in this respect, and shows the greater amount 
of labor required of the Nubian to produce the same 
result. 

I know no part of the world in which life is so very 
small and worthless a matter as here, nor do the inhabi- 
tants themselves appear to set any high value on their 
own existence or that of each other. Life is but exist- 
ence ; nothing more. They rise from the ground on 
which they sleep, or the heap of doura stalks, or mat 
which keeps their naked bodies from it, and eating a 
coarse lump of corn meal, half baked, if they are so for- 



280 NUBIAN VILLAGES. 

tunate as to have it, but generally eating a dozen dried 
dates for breakfast, they go out to the bank of the river 
and work in the scanty soil, or watch the sakea, relieving 
their companions who have kept it going all night. And 
when the day is done, and work is done, they sit in 
groups in the dark or in the moonlight, and talk at inter- 
vals, but mostly keep silence, passing around from lip to 
lip the small pipe of native tobacco, and one by one rolls 
himself up in his own nakedness, curling his knees up to 
his head, and sleeps profound and dreamless sleep till 
morning. 

Their huts are miserable substitutes for even the vile 
huts of the Egyptians. Many travelers mention the con- 
trast between the Egyptian villages and the neat cottages 
of the Nubians among the trees, speaking of the beauty 
of the latter, and one traveler even calls them " neat white 
cottages." He must have been far away from Nubia when 
he wrote that, and had doubtless forgotten the low piles 
of Nile mud, never, or scarcely ever, high enough for a 
man to stand erect in, which constitute a Nubian village ; 
and as to trees, I saw none in Nubia that were near the 
houses. On the contrary, without exception, so far as 
my observation went, the Nubian villages were built on 
land where trees or plants would not grow. Soil is too 
valuable there to be wasted for building purposes. Hence 
the houses, which are of the rudest form and smallest 
possible dimension, are usually built in a honeycomb mass 
at the foot of the mountain, and it requires a quick eye 
to detect them, their color being similar to the sand and 
rock. 

One nisrht I went into some of these huts at a late 
hour. No doors prevented intruders, nor was there any 
safeguard against robbers. The inhabitants lay on the 
ground, huddled together in masses, sound asleep like so 
many hogs, and grunted, as hogs would, when we stirred 



AN EVENTFUL HISTORY. 28X 

them np with our feet and voices. Life in such a country 
has no great amount of variety, as one might well im- 
agine. 

There was an old man that I found one day on shore as 
I walked by the boat, whose history was strange and 
Avorth the hearing^. 

He was a puny, dried-up old fellow, whose weight, I 
think, might come within seventy pounds. He sat on the 
end of the pole of the water-wheel, immediately behind 
the tails of the bullocks, and folloAved them around the 
little circle which they walked, his knees up to his chin, 
which was buried between them, and his blear eyes gaz- 
ing listlessly on the cattle and the outer wall of the sakea, 
for it was inclosed in a stone and mud wall. The ever- 
lasting creaking of the wheels — that strange sound that 
no other machinery on earth emits — seemed, and was 
to him, the familiar music of his life. 

I questioned him, and his story was simply this : He 
was born just there. It was long before the days of Mo- 
hammed Ali, when Hassan Kasheef was king, that he 
was a boy, sitting on the pole of the sakea, and following 
the bullocks around. He sat there more years than he 
knew any thing about, and grew to be a man. Life was 
to him still the same round. His view was bounded by 
the mountains around him, and he never went beyond 
them. He rode the sakea, and at every circle he caugltt 
through the open doorway a vision of one mighty hiil, 
"wath a grove of palms at its foot. Li the night he saw it 
still and solemn among the stars, and sometimes he had 
seen tempests gathered around it. It was the one idea 
of his life, and it was something to find in such a brain 
one idea, though it was but a rock. He looked out at it 
as he told me of it with a sort of affection that I well 
understood, but Avhich surprised me none the less. But 
so he had lived. He grew heavier as he grew older, and 



282 



AN EVENTFUL HISTORY. 



then he could not ride the pole, but sat down in the door- 
way and watched his bullocks, looking behind him often 
at the hill, and so the years slipped along, and age came 
and he wasted away, and wiien his second childhood was 
on him, he mounted the pole again, and was riding to his 
grave. 

He had been a great traveler. I know not how many 
thousand miles he had been carried around that centre 
pin. Had he never been away from the valley ? Yes, 
once; he climbed the hill yonder, and from its summit 
saw the dreary wastes of sand that stretched far away in 
all directions, and he came back contented. Did notliing 
occur in his lifetime that he now remembered as marking 
some one day more than another ? Nothing. Yes ! one 
day the wheel broke, and he was startled and frightened ; 
but they came and mended it, and all went on as before. 

I left him there to follow his weary round till death 
overtake him ; and if I find life oppressive at any time 
hereafter, I shall know where to seek a hermitage and 
undisturbed calm. 




36. 

I DID not stop to look at any ruins in Nubia on my up- 
ward voyage, until we reached Abou Simbal. 

We tracked a little toward noon of the day after leav- 
ing Philie ; that was December 1 9th, and I walked on 
shore for a while, crossing the tropic on foot. 

Medical treatment had been demanded from time to 
time, along the river, by the natives, who imagine Franks 
omnipotent in medicine, but now the demands were op- 
pressively frequent. 

As I was walking along, gun in hand, looking after game, 
which was very scarce in Nubia, a dozen applicants pre- 
sented themselves for the treatment of ophthalmia, sprains, 
and some bad wounds. I directed them, one after an- 
other, to follow up the river with the boat, which was 
tracking a half mile behind me. Arriving at a convenient 
spot, I sat down till the party arrived, and stopping the 
boat for my medicine-chest, proceeded to administer to 
their wants as I knew how. It was always a dangerous 
business, for if a man were not cured, his friends would 
be certain to lay it to the medicine, and if he died, would 
seek revenge on his supposed murderer. 

There was one case presented to me here that was in- 
tensely horrible. I beg pardon of my gentler readers for 
asking them to pass over this page or two, unless they 



284 A WIFE IN NUBIA. 

Avisli to be shocked hj an instance of womanly affection 
that surpassed, in my view, any story of ancient or mod- 
ern history or romance that I have read. 

A tall, slender, and graceful woman, erect as a queen, 
but naked as a Nubian (great, indeed, was the contrast 
between her carriage and her costume), led down to the 
boat a man of thirty or thereabouts, whom she called her 
husband. He was a splendidly-formed fellow, black as 
charcoal, but Avith a frame that looked as if he could 
carry a world on his shouklers. Its developments were 
manifest, for he Avore nothing but a cloth around liis waist, 
and a bundle of rags on his right hand. 

This hand she unbound, and exposed to me a most hor- 
rible wound. In a fray with some neighboring village, 
lie, holding one of the lieavy Nubian clubs in his hand, 
had received a blow on the back of it from another, Avhich 
crushed the small bones to a pulp. This Avas some 
Aveeks before, and the hand had noAV no semblance of a 
hand. The fingers Avere one solid mass of flesh, the Avhole 
SAVollen to enormous size, and in the centre of the back, 
Avas a hole, an inch in diameter, from Avhich oozed foul 
matter that made me sick to look at. 

NoAv pass over Avhat I am about to describe, I beg you, 
fair lady. 

The Avound had not been Avashed. The Avhole hand 
Avas a mass of dirt. Miriam thrcAA" me a cake of soap from 
the AvindoAv of the boat, and I made the Avife Avash the 
liand. 

She did it as gently as a mother could handle a dying 
child. Her fingers could not cause him pain, so lightly 
did she move them over the Avound, and after a fcAV min- 
utes I could see the skin. 

It Avas a hopeless case. Mortification folloAved Avithin a 
Aveek, I have no doubt. But I could not tell her so. The 
lightest touch pressed out foul discharges from the open- 



woman's devotion. 285 

iiig. I told her to clean it out. She did so till I could 
look in it. There were stringy pieces of white substance 
looking like jjieces of the tendons. They were accumula- 
tions of ropy discharges, and I told her to get them out. 
She tried with her fingers, but they were too slippery, 
and she could not. Then she took up the hand and put 
her lips down to the wound, and took one of these foul 
pieces between her teeth and — I suppose she drew them 
out — I didn't see her. 

When she told me it was done, I was leaning against a 
palm-tree, a little way up the bank, with my tarbouche 
off, trying to get a little fresh air. 

I tell you, my bachelor friend, that woman was worth 
her weight in diamonds, and she was a widow within 
a fortnight. 

There was a boy, who professed to have some disease, 
and after thorough examination of him, I gave him the 
old remedy, a bread pill. He tooknt, and then followed 
what he had really come down to the boat for, a demand 
for bucksheesh. 

" What ?" said I. 

" Bucksheesh." 

I seized him by the loose shirt that enveloped his act- 
ive limbs, and threw him into the river. He swam like 
a fish, was ashore in a twinkling, and, as he shook himself, 
demanded, with an air of perfect certainty that he had 
now a right to it, "Bucksheesh, Ya Howajji." 

Toward evening, of the next day, we came up to Ko- 
rusko. 

Korusko figures largely in the geography of Upper 
Egypt, and I had expected to find there a village of con- 
siderable size, if not a flourishing city. But there was 
nothing of the sort. There was not even an ordinary 
village. A few scattered huts along the foot of the 
mountain were the only residences of the natives. Along 



286 ABDUL RAHMAN. 

tlie shore were tents, and camels, and piles of goods, and 
bales of various sorts of merchandise, for this is the point 
at which the caravans leave the Nile to go to Upper 
Nubia. The river here returns to its course after a 
great bend to the westward, which bend the caravans 
avoid, as well as the many cataracts which forbid naviga- 
tion. We approached it in the evening, just at sunset, 
and, sending the boat on ahead, we went ashore to walk 
through the grove of palms which covers the bank. We 
found groups of traders around their camp-fires, and the 
eftect of moonlight on them became very picturesque. 
One i^arty of Europeans surjjrised us not a little. It ap- 
peared that they Avere going to the upper country on a 
trading exi3edition, and their camels were ready for the 
journey. 

We lay all night here, and in the morning tracked up 
to Derr, the chief city of Lower Nubia. 

We had sent on word that we were coming, as the 
course of the river from Derr to Korusko is nearly south- 
east, and it was necessary to track all the way, no wind 
blowmg against that current, and we wished additional 
men to take the ropes. 

Abdul Rahman Effendi, the governor of this section, 
who resides at Derr, sent us down a small army of nearly 
a hundred men, under charge of Mohammed, one of the 
sons of Hassan Kasheef, the old king of Nubia, and they 
took us up at a flying rate. About eight miles from 
Derr, Abdul Rahman himself met us on horseback, and 
came on board the boat. 

He is a young man, who has been a flivorite with 
Latif Pasha, and has been steadily promoted by him un- 
til he has reached his present elevation. But he is not 
exactly contented, for he is in a place of exile to a man 
of his peculiar tastes. He was accompanied by his jDhy- 
sician, who was a keen old fellow, full of fun, and sharp 



A HUNDRED WIVES. 287 

as a razor. In reply to his inqniiy whether in America 
the law made any distinctions in favor of the rich over 
the poor, I enlightened him by the history of some med- 
ical men, of good position and connections, who had 
recently suffered its penalties, and he seemed greatly as- 
tonished. I think he gathered from what I said that 
medical men in America were not the most safe class in 
the community, and were somewhat given to killing 
other people. But I disabused his mind on that score 
very soon. 

Abdul Rahman was sent to Derr some time ago to set- 
tle the division of the property of old Hassan Kasheef, 
the last king of Xubia before its subjugation by Moham- 
med Ali. Having successfully accomplished his mission 
he was sent back as governor of Lower Nubia, not pre- 
cisely to his own liking, for he would have much pre- 
fered a place below the cataract. 

He told me afterward the history of the old king and 
his property. Hassan Kasheef was a giant in his day. 
He was seven feet high, could eat a lamb for his break- 
fast, and a sh'eep for his dinner, had over a hundred 
wives, and left more children than could be counted. 
He was in the habit of marrying every girl that he 
fancied, his ceremony being simply to ride up to the 
door of the hut in which she lived and fire his gun. The 
people shouted instantly, "the Kasheef is married!" 
and after remaining a day or two with his wife he went 
away, and she never heard of hitn again. Thus he had 
wives everywhere. The first Turkish governor endeav- 
ored to reform his morals ; but Hassan could be a Mus- 
sulman in all but that. He o-ot rid of all but seven of 
the women, and Avhen he died, seven years ago, these 
appeared to claim a share in the property. But there 
were three more than the Mohammedan law could rec- 
ognize, it allowing only four wives to one man. It was 



288 FRUIT AND WINE. 

this knotty subject that Abdul Rahman was sent here to 
untwist, and he succeeded admirably, by inducing them 
all to submit to his arrangement and make an equitable 
division of the property. 

His sons, in the regular line, now living, are fifteen. 
Their names are almost a complete catalogue of the 
names of all Moslems. Suleiman, Ali, Daoud, Rashwan, 
Mohammed, Iloussein, Ibrahim, Abdul-Raliwan, Khalil, 
Achmet-Asim, Mohammed-Manfouh, Moh ammed-Dahib, 
Mustapha, Shahin, and Mohammed-Defterdar. 

Abdul Rahman and his physician proved jolly com- 
panions. They smoked, talked, laughed, and joked, with 
the ease and freedom of western society. AYine they 
both declined. Every one knows that the Moslem re- 
ligion forbids wine. 

They ate freely of pomegranates. "Doctor," said 
Trumbull ; " don't you think that a little wine or brandy 
with his fruit would be proper for the governor to take 
by way of medicine ?" 

" No — I don't think wine agrees w^ith Abdul Rahman's 
constitution," said the doctor ; " but I tind that I need 
it myself with fruit, and it is good for me." He filled a 
tumbler Avith Marsala, and poured it down with a sly 
wink of his eye at the laughing governor, and after that 
the doctor stuck to the decanter till it was empty. 

I had heard all along the river that the great temple 
at Abou Simbal was closed with sand, and had not been 
open for two years. I accordingly requested Abdul Rah- 
man to send up an order to the nearest sheiks, to have a 
hundred men there on the day I expected to be there 
coming down the river, for it was out of the question to 
leave Nubia without seeing the interior of this, the 
greatest curiosity in Egypt — perhaps greater than Cheops 
or Karnak. 

Abdul Rahman was most hearty and earnest in his at- 



^ CHAMELEONS. 289 

tentions. I regretted the impossibility of staying a day 
or two with him at Derr, where he promised us all sorts 
of jollifications. But I had work to do at Thebes, and 
every day was important. Pie sent a cawass with us to 
hasten our j^rogress above Derr, and after making us 
promise to call on our way down, he suddenly discovered 
that we had carried him two miles above his house, on 
the river bank at Derr, and shouted to be put ashore. 
His train of fifty or more horses and men had kept along 
the bank by our side, and Ave now turned up to the 
shore. Chief among the followers was Suleiman, eldest 
son of Hassan-Kasheef, a noble man, nearly seven feet 
high, heir to his father's fallen throne. 

We lay a couple of hours at the bank. The boys 
brought us lots of chameleons which abounded on the 
bean vines along the shore, and we bought them at a 
copper each till we had more than w^e wanted. They 
were a source of great amusement to us afterward, fight- 
ing one another with most furious slowness, biting as an 
iron rail-shears opens and shuts its jaws, once in half a 
minute, swelling and changing their colors, now brilliant 
green, now dull gray, now straw yellow, noAv, when angry, 
covered with a hundred shining sj^ots, and then relapsing 
into their natural brilhant green. They remained on the 
boat for a month, and then as we came northward died 
one by one until all had disappeared. 

Toward evening we left Derr, tracking slowly. Abdul 
Rahman and his suite rode along shore three or four miles 
Avith us, and then a breeze springing up, we left him and 
dashed on a mile or two further. Here the breeze died 
away, and we came to the land under a precipitous mount- 
ain, on which all night long the moonlight lay in silent 
splendor. We sat, all four of us, on the rocks till nearly 
midnight, and the boat of an English gentleman and lady 
(residents of Cairo), Avho had been all the fall on the 

13 



290 ABOUSIMBAL. ^ 

river, joined us here, and remained with lis to the second 
cataract. 

It was on the afternoon of the 23d of December that 
we came in sight of the grand front of Abou Simbal, the 
most impressive of the monmnents of Egyptian grandeur. 
I say the most impressive, because here is all that can 
impress the heart. Here are the remains of ancient 
wealth, splendor, and taste united. Here the sublime 
idea of the great Sesostris stands graven on the rock, and 
the men of the nineteenth century after Christ respond 
with their hearts to the call which the man of the four- 
teenth before Christ utters on the face of the mountain. 
Human power may not hope to accomplish more than 
this, or to equal again the magnificence and beauty of 
this temple. It was the thought of a kingly intellect to 
hew down the face of the mountain, leaving four colossal 
statues sitting before it, and then to excavate a temple in 
its very depths, and leave the statues of the gods looking 
from its inmost chamber out to the bank of the swift 
Nile. The thought has long outlasted the man — outlasted 
his dynasty — outlasted his race and nation. The desert 
sands have in vain sought to hide it and cover it up. It 
is the grandest remaining monument of old Egypt. 

Three colossal statues sit silent and majestic in a niche 
cut in the face of the mountain. The fourth has fallen 
into ruin, and only his throne remains. The sand of the 
desert, yellow as gold, flowing around the end of the 
mountain and across the front of the temple, has covered 
the -northernmost statue to his neck, the second to his 
knees, the throne of the third, which is vacant, and the feet 
of the fourth. The doorway, between the two middle 
statues, is not now filled with the sand, though it appears 
to be so. The highest ridge of the sand is thirty feet in 
front of the doorway, from which it slopes each way, to 
the river on one side and into the temple on the other.* 



ABOUSIMBAL. 291 

It had not been our intention to stop at all on the way 
up the river, but I could not pass those stupendous statues 
thus. 

There are two temples at Abou Simbal, alike hewn in 
the face of the mountain. The smaller one is two hundred 
feet from the greater. A ravine of sand comes down be- 
tween them. 

Trumbull and myself looked longingly as we slowly 
forged by them, with a light breeze blowing, and I saw 
that he felt as I did. 

" What say you ?" 

" Let us stop." 

Hassabo put his helm down, and we ran up to the land 
between the two temples. To our surprise we found that 
the great temple was not closed, as we had heard, and 
access to the interior was not impossible though difficult. 
We could sit down on the loose sand, and slide, feet fore- 
most, under the top of the doorway, and lying down on 
our backs, let ourselves down the hill of sand that sloped 
into the great chamber. 

Eight immense pillars of square stone support the roof. 
In front of each pillar is a statue seventeen feet high, with 
folded hands and countenance of calm majesty. Beyond 
this is a second and a third room, opening at last into the 
holy of holies, where the altar yet stands, before four 
seated statues of gods, to which the great Sesostris offered 
his sacrifices three thousand years ago. A screen has 
formerly crossed this room in front of the altar, but it has 
gone long ago ; doubtless it gleamed with gold and jewels 
once. Nine other chambers opened in various directions 
in this strange subterranean temple, whose walls are 
every Avhere covered with legends and paintings of old 
triumphs of the great king. 

The smaller temple of Abou Simbal is also hewn in the 
rOTck like this, and presents a front much smaller but 



292 BENI-ISRAEL. 

more elaborately executed. Seven large buttresses, slop- 
in 2: backward from the base, have between them six 
colossal statues standing. The temple itself consists of 
five rooms, on a smaller scale than the great temple, but 
possessing quite as much interest historically. 

We paused a very short time here on our way np the 
river. Wady Halfeli and the second cataract were close 
before us, and we were anxious to be there and on our 
return. So as the breeze freshened toward evening, we 
again shook out the canvas, and the Phanto'ni again sprang 
forward to the gale. The mountains of Nubia now as- 
sumed a new appearance. Solitary hills rose out of the 
desert plain like sugar-loaves. Others had long levels on 
their summits, and some were covered with ruined vil- 
lages. Behind one ruined town, which the men called 
Diif, we saw strange tombs with domes, like the ordinary 
skeik's tomb of the Mussulmans ; but which they (the 
Mussulmans) say are not of their faith. I think they are. 

Some of the men, when we asked about them, said they 
were tombs of the Beni-Israel (children of Israel). 

"We passed the ruins of Ibreem, which gives its name 
to the finest dates in Nubia, much prized in the lower 
country, and as the evening came down we were in a 
country whose scenery had totally changed. The desert 
views were distant and fine. The hills scattered and 
broken. 

In the night the breeze freshened, and as we dashed 
swiftly up the river, Hassan Shellalee, the pilot, trusting 
entirely to his good luck and nearness to the end of the 
journey, went to sleep, and the boat brought np on the 
rocks with a terrible thump. Then ensued a scene. Such 
a row as we had on deck ! We rushed out and found 
Abd-el-Atti laying on his whip. Every one who came 
within his reach took a full share, and the poor pilot got 
most of all. 



THE BIRTH-NIGHT. 293 

An hour afterward we again grounded with a tremen- 
dous crash. I thought the Phcmtom was done for. Abd- 
el-Atti dashed out on deck and cursed the unlucky pilot 
with all the phrases known to the Orient. He stood it all 
until he was called a Jew and a hog, and then he struck 
at the dragoman, and they clinched with a yell and rolled 
on deck together. 

I don't know exactly how w^e managed it. Trumbull 
dragged the shellalee out by his bare legs, and I hauled 
Abd-el-Atti aft by his coat — for he wore a European 
overcoat. They clung to each other like dogs, and it was 
like tearing flesh apart to draw them asunder. 

We had a midnight session of the court to consider the 
case, which we adjourned to the next day at Wady 
Halfeh, warning Hassan Shellalee that if the Phantom 
struck again, he might address himself to the Prophet, 
for nothino; short of Mohammed himself could save 
him. 

The day rose clear and glorious on the desert, and we 
were flying on. The white Avings of the Phantom were 
stretched on the fresh air as she swept gracefully up by 
hill and island and village until at two o'clock after noon 
we fired a salute of ten guns to ourselves as she folded 
her wings for the last time at Wady Halfeh, the ultima 
thule of our Nubian travel. 

That night was the birth-night. In what countries of 
the round world were not Christians singing carols as the 
sun going westward left the holy twilight of Christmas 
eve with blessings on every land ? 

Wherever a man may be on Christmas eve it is par- 
donable in him to give at least one hour to memory. 
And if there be not the broad fireside and the flashing 
logs in the chimney, if his far-Avandering feet are hot with 
desert sands, and his forehead is burning with the sun- 
shine of Sahara, he will be excused for remembering 



294 



CHRISTMAS EVE. 



with even more distinctness the forms of old times, on 
which the blaze of the Christmas log shines so gloriously. 

A few rods from the boat, on the sand, lying down and 
looking starward, I was able for awhile to forget Nubia 
and recall America. 

Able ! — I couldn't help it — voices called to me out of 
distances that I did not try to lathom. Eyes looked at 
me, but I didn't think to ask whether they were this 
side or beyond the stars. Lips kissed me — and I never 
dreamed of their being ghostly lips, for they were not 
cold — and arms enfolded me — warm embraces — and hearts 
were throbbing loud against mine as one and another of 
the beloved ones of old times and all times lay on my 
breast. 




27. 

Wady Halfeh (the valley of lialfeh^ a coarse species of 
grass) is on the east side of the Nile four miles below the 
last rapid of the second cataract. It is a small village 
scattered among the palm-trees which abound here. The 
west shore of the river is barren, the yellow sand of Sa- 
hara pouring down to the water's edge. To see the 
cataract it is necessary to ride about seven miles on the 
western shore, either directly along the water's edge, or 
behind a range of hills that are here much broken and 
scattered. Small boats can approach very near the foot 
of the cataract. But the Phantom could not. The 
khadi, who was resident post-master, governor, and what- 
ever other official might be necessary at Wady Halfeh, 
had received from Abdul Rahman Effendi, by express, 
news of our coming, and was on board with proffers of all 
manner of attentions so soon as we came to land. But 
we did not see him ourselves, for, havmg taken the small 
boat and crossed to the west bank of the stream we were 
lying on the golden sand, picking up splendid agates and 
other beautiful stones, until the sun went down. 

Early on Christmas morning, however, he came down, 
with from thirty to forty dromedaries, horses, and don- 
keys, offering us choice from among them for our ride to 
Abou Seir, and such as we selected were immediately sent 



296 DROMEDARY RIDE. 

across the river, to await our time of starting. When we 
were ready he announced his intention of accompanying 
us for the day. 

We mounted on the west bank near a curious crude 
brick ruin which stands Uke a church tower on the very 
edge of the river. The EngUsh gentleman and lady had 
arrived in the night and joined us this morning, so that 
we were six Franks and about twenty Arabs, forming no 
small caravan. I rode a fine white dromedary, and the 
khadi kept close at my side on a capital horse. Our route 
lay back of the mountains over the yellow desert, and 
after traveling slowly a couple of miles we were in the 
sand hollows as far from any sign of life or vegetation 
as if we had been a thousand miles distant in the heart 
of Sahara. 

" Will the Howajji try the Haggin ?" 

Certainly I would try him, if the khadi thought him a 
good animal (and so I began to get his j^aces out of him). 
He was not as good a dromedary by much as I have seen, 
but he could travel fast enough, and when he proposed a 
race I beat him easily. Possibly, probably, he let me do 
it, but the dromedary is a swift animal. We were going 
fast, I leading the khadi by about a length, both animals 
warming up to it, and one of the attendants, on another 
dromedary, close behind, when five gazelles sprang up, 
three hundred yards ahead of us, and were off like the 
wind. I shouted to the khadi, never thinking of a gazelle 
chase on a dromedary, and pulled up. 

" I have no gun," said he. 

" Here is one," said I, reaching out to him my larger 
pistol. 

What notion the dromedary had I know not. Perhaps I 
used a word that he misunderstood, for down went his fore 
legs and off went pistol and Braheem Effendi together, 
striking some twenty feet or less from the camel's nose. 



THE DESERT. 297 

I was not on the ground any sooner than the khadi 
who was horrified at the idea of a dead Howajji on his 
hands to answer for, but as he sprang from his saddle I 
rebounded, and leaping into his j)lace, shouted and shook 
the reins, and away we went after the game that was fast 
vanishing over the sand hills : all this had occupied but an 
instant. I looked back, however, and beheld the usual 
winding up of such a scene, the poor camel driver on his 
back, the khadi pronouncing sentence and the other 
Arabs around ready to execute it. Miriam interfered to 
save the j^oor devil's soles, and I went on after the ga- 
zelles. I rode three miles on a full gallop, but the drove 
of gazelles kept just ahead of me, pausing occasionally, 
as if in wonderment at what I could be riding so 
furiously for, and then going on with their long, easy 
leaps, that put to shame my ^^oor horse in the heavy 
sand. 

Once I had got within two hundred yards of one of 
them, and sent a pistol-ball after him, but he only leaped 
into the air, I think quite ten feet high from the sand, and 
was off like the wind. 

Still I followed them, mile after mile ; and suddenly I 
looked around me, and the desert had closed in, and I 
was alone. There was an excitement in it I had never 
before felt. On — on ! I drove the shovel stirrups into 
the sides of the horse, and we went like the desert storm 
over the hills and through the hollows. Sand, sand, sky, 
and sand — nothing else was visible ! It was my first real- 
ization of the solitude of the desert, of its desolation and 
loneliness. I saw at length something white lying among 
the yellow gold around me, and riding toward it I found 
an empty basket, a broken water-gourd, the pieces of a 
jar, and some rags. Was this the spot where some 
desert wanderer, having exhausted his last drop of water, 
lay down and died, never dreaming that the Nile, with 

1.3* 



298 THE SECOND CATARACT. 

its glorious flow, was within ten miles of him ? I picked 
up the basket, remounted, and rode slowly to the south- 
east, hoping ere long to catch sight of my companions 
from some hill-top on the desert. 

In a few minutes, four of the Arab attendants came 
over the hills to the eastward, in search of me, and rode 
up swiftly. As we went on, one of them, thinking that I 
might be disposed to try another race, challenged one of 
his companions, and they went ahead at a furious gallop. 
My horse looked at them awhile, and then pricked up his 
ears and went off at a bound after them. I was close on 
them when I saw one of them stagger in his seat. His 
saddle-girth had broken, and the next moment he and his 
saddle rolled over on the sand. I went over him at a 
leap. He swore I had killed him, and made it a plea for 
a large bucksheesh that evening, which, I am happy to 
say, restored the erectness of his back, which had been 
lamentably bent before its bestowal. 

Five miles brought me to a hill-toi), where I saw the 
party as many miles distant, moving slowly over the 
sand, and in an hour more I rejoined them at the hill of 
Abou Seir, on the second cataract of the Nile. 

This cataract is less a cataract than the first. But the 
river spreads wider among more minute islands, and is 
broken up into a thousand streams, up which no large 
boat can be taken. The rapids extend through twelve 
miles, and the breadth of them may be from three to 
five, but in this space little of the river is visible. The 
rocks and islands are covered with a low shrub, or bush, 
somewhat like the sont^ or acacia iiilotica^ in appearance, 
but I think it is not the same, though I did not examine 
it, and it may be. The green aj^pearance of this makes 
the view over the cataract exceedingly fresh and beauti- 
ful, contrasting forcibly with the desert around. Under 
the rocky bluff of Abou Seir, the last plunge of the Nile 



CARVED NAMES. 299 

is seen and heard, and it ascends, with solemn roar, 
around the hill, as it has since the rift was made and the 
waters let through. 

Here we spread our carpets and our luncheon, the 
wind blowing over our heads. We read the names of 
travelers carved here and there on the stones. They 
were numerous, and we found among them many friends. 
We carved our own here. It was the only place in 
all my Nile travel that I had been willing to cut my 
name ; but I enjoyed the pleasure of reading those of 
my friends so keenly, that I could not forego the hope 
that in some future day some one would come to this spot 
who would find a momentary pleasure in looking at mine. 
It is under the edge of an overhanging piece of the rock, 
and Miriam's is by it. If they last but half as long as 
some that we found there, they will be read when we are 
dust, and when the stones that friends shall carve at our 
heads will long ago have crumbled in our stormy land. 

Eliot Warburton's was cut near Belzoni's. Before the 
former some one has cut, "Alas! poor," and no one could 
read the name without a passing shadow of sadness at the 
memory of his fate. 

The romance of travel is well-nigh over. We had no 
discomforts to boast of in Egypt. We spread Persian 
carpets, rich enough to win the heart of a lady of gorge- 
ous tastes in New York, on the rocky bluff at Abou Seir, 
and opened a bottle of Chateau Lafitte, of sparkling St. 
Peray, aTnd of Bass's j)ale ale. A luncheon-bag from the 
back of one of the camels furnished metal drinking-cups 
that improved the ale, if they did spoil the claret, but we 
lunched on cold turkey and sandwiches, and the only ro- 
mance about it was, that we threw the foam out of our 
cups into the air, and it went down two hundred feet 
into the cataract of the Nile. 

Luncheon ended, the moment was somewhat serious. 



300 CHRISTMAS DINNER. 

There was nothing beyond that point that had any 
attractions for me. It would have been pleasant to loiter 
month after month along the great river, but there were 
pleasanter loitering places in the great world we had yet 
to travel over, and I could not regret that I was to turn 
my back on the South. One long gaze into the distance 
above the cataract, that distance so imperfectly explored, 
though so many have visited it, a half uttered i:)romise 
that when the world had nothing else to be seen of more 
interest, we would return and lind our way up to Don- 
gola, and on to Kartum, and on — on — on. And then — 

" Miriam — Ave turn our faces now to Jerusalem." 

Standing on the lofty hill at Abou Seir, we sent west- 
ward, over the desert that stretched away across Africa 
to the shores of the sea, westAvard over desert and sea, 
our messages to the waiting hearts at home, and then, 
with willing steps, turned on our Avay toward Holy Land. 

We found the boat dressed by Abd-el-Atti for Christ- 
mas. She was covered Avith green palm branches from 
stem to stern, and the cabui Avas a bower fit for a queen. 
And such a dinner-table as Hajji Mohammed got up that 
day Avho shall be able to describe ! There Avas a turkey, 
made drunk on brandy before he Avas killed, and conse- 
quently as tender as a partridge — so said the cook — and 
I saw the brandy administered myself, but I can't say it 
Avas that Avhich made him tender, though tender he Avas. 
There Avas a roast goose, Avild and delicious ; four roasted 
teal, and chickens in three forms. There Avas a pigeon- 
pie made of macaroni, and one Avhole lamb, Avith folded 
arms and bent legs, and head and tail comjDlete, CA'ery 
inch of him, stuffed Avith almonds, raisins, and rice, and 
done to a turn. There were innumerable dishes of ka- 
bobs and small bits of meat and game, and there Avas a 
curry of chicken that AA^ould have suited an Indian gen- 
eral. Then there Avere calves'-feet jelly and blanc-mange 



NORTHWARD BOUND. 301 

in moulds, and mish-mish and apple and mince and pump- 
kin pies, and there was a cake made of sugar and almonds, 
Avhicli you struck with a stick or a knife, and when you 
broke it, out flew a white pigeon ; and this was but half 
the variety wherewith our indefatigable dragoman had 
loaded our Christmas table. 

That night the weather changed. We had been on 
deck always before this until nearly midnight, and now 
we went up to see the boat illuminated. Fifty colored 
lanterns, crimson and blue, yellow and green, were hung 
out from all the spars and ropes and awning-posts. Blue- 
lights sent their glare over the surface of the water, and 
altogether it was about as strange a scene as Wady Ilal- 
feh is likely to have in the next half century. 

The boat was rigged for the return voyage ;* the great 
yard was taken down, and laid fore-and-aft over the cabin, 
while the small yard from the mast at the stern was 
placed on the fore-mast, and the deck-planks were taken 
up, leaving the seats for the men to row. At midnight, 
Avhen the wind had gone down, the boat was cast off, and 
with a long shout and a new chorus she swung her head 
to the current, and the downward voyage had com- 
menced. It was cold and clear, and looking upward one 
might imagine that the night was a Christmas night at 
home, when the stars hold their most joyous revel. I sat 
on deck till long after the voyage commenced, and then 
slept. So ended Christmas at Wady Halfeh. 




28. 

Jl 5 1( S i h] 5 ^ I . 

Tnfi next afternoon, ns the sun was setting, "vve ap- 
proached the rock-hewn temple at Ferayg, a few miles 
above Abou Simbal. 

It was nearly sunset, and, to avoid delay, we took the 
small boat and pulled down the river ahead of the large 
boat to land and examine it. The entrance is a plain, 
lofty doorway in the rock-face of the hill, Avithout orna- 
ment. The boat grated alongside the rocks, and spring- 
ing out we climbed the terraces, some thirty feet, to the 
doorway. 

Entering the hall, the roof of which is supported by 
four square j^illars, we were astonished at finding the 
principal object in view a picture of the Saviour on the 
ceiling, his head surrounded by a halo. This, like many 
other of the Egyptian temples, has been used in later 
years for Christian worshij), but not in late years. I have 
much veneration for these evidences of the faith of the 
early Christians. Here martyrs worshiped in days when 
martyrs suiFered for the name of their Lord, and in many 
of these places martyrs died with eyes fixed on the image 
of their Saviour. There was an inner room, opening 
from this hall, and I walked into it, tapping the floor in 
front of me, as was my custom, with a long stick which I 
carried in my hand when exploring a dark place. I found 



« 



BURIED ALIVE 303 

a solid floor, as I supposed, and advanced, but as I ent- 
ered the dark doorway I stepped on nothing. 

There are moments when one thinks the thoughts of 
years. I had sounded some of these graves in rock-hewn 
chambers, and found them thirty and forty feet deep. As 
I began to descend I thought of those, and gave up all for 
lost. It was not the fate I had hoped for, to die in a hole 
like that. I wondered wdiat sort of a paragraph it would 
make in the newspapers at home under the head of " mel- 
ancholy occurrence," among steamboat explosions, railway 
smashes, suicides, and swindles. I wondered whether 
they would ever get me out, dead or alive, or whether 
they would not come tumbling after me one on another 
into the same trap ; and then my feet struck bottom and 
I shouted, " Miriam, stand back — don't come in here," 
and she, hearing a voice from the tombs, was terribly 
startled, as well she might be. It was but ten feet deep. 
It might have been fifty. It had been much deeper than 
now, but it was filled up with rubbish. I struck on my 
feet, in the corner, standing upright. I put my hand in 
my pocket, took out a candle and lit it with a match, 
caught the end of Mohammed Hassan's turban, which he 
let down to me, and he and Trumbull lifted me out. Till 
then I did not suppose that I was hurt, but when this was 
accomplished my left arm fell powerless, and I was not 
able to use it for a month. 

I stowed myself in the bow of the boat, my shoulder 
aching intensely. The others took the stern. It was a 
calm, delicious evening. The sun was just gone, the 
swift twilight had come down on ns, and in a few mo- 
ments starry darkness followed. The men pulled slowly, 
and the oars made the only noise that broke the pro- 
found stillness of the scene. Silence, the deep silence of 
ancient countries, that which every one has noticed 
among ruins, and Avhich was majestic always on the 



304 ILLUMINATION. 

lordly Nile, the stillness of that repose which ages 
have but deepened, never disturbed, was on land and 
river. 

Resting awhile without rowing we lost count of time, 
and suddenly began to wonder if by any possibility we 
had j^assed the Phantom^ which had gone on while we 
were in the temple, and was to wait for us at Abou Sim- 
bal. She always carried a crimson light at the peak in 
the night time, but we could not see it any where. Trum- 
bull fired his j^istol three times, and a moment afterward 
we heard three discharges in reply, and saw the red light 
going up. Pulling for it, in a few moments we saw her 
lying at the shore, but our eyes were instantly directed 
elsewhere. For in the light of the stars, calm, unearthly 
in their majesty, we saw the forms of the three colossal 
statues of Remeses, and as we came nearer they grew in 
size, and looked upon us with that cold and stately smile 
that has been wasted so many centuries on the fast flow- 
ing river — and that seems to signify in those rocky 
watchers some conception of the destiny of human life 
and national grandeur, which they behold aptly typified 
in the everlasting flow of the drops to a distant and un- 
known sea. 

Mindful of the brilliant illumination of the boat the 
evening previous, at Wady Halfeh, it occurred to us 
that Ave might realize somewhat of the ancient glory of 
Abou Simbal by lighting it with our colored lanterns. 

Abd-el-Atti entered into the idea with his accustomed 
alacrity, and although my shoulder was exceedingly pain- 
ful I went up into the temple to advise and assist in the 
disposition of candles and lanterns, while the ladies, who 
did not go into the temple on our passage up, waited on 
board until the illumination was complete. 

The sand hill was almost impassable. It was like 
climbing a snow bank fifty feet high, the feet going 



"BUCKSHEESH, HOWAJJI." 305 

in deep and slipping far back at every step, so that we 
had to lie down and breathe several times before we 
reached the top and descended into the doorway of the 
teinj^le. 

When our arrangements were complete we returned 
and brought the ladies up. The procession was pictur- 
esque. Two blazing torches led the way, and four more 
brought up the rear. Our English friends had arrived 
just after the Phantom^ and joined us. 

Never since the days of Remeses has his great temple 
shone so brilliantly. Every statue held bright lanterns, 
and for two hundred feet through, the long rooms we 
placed them — rows of every color, shining on painted 
walls and lofty statues. The altar was in the shadow — 
for so we arranged it — hiding the lights behind it that 
they might shine on the faces of the gods, and not on the 
altar front. When all was ready we called in the ladies, 
and, as they entered, the sailors, who had busied them- 
selves about the lamj^s, suddenly disappeared, and the 
temple was apparently empty. But at the moment of 
our re-entering, in place of the chorus of priests and at- 
tendants that was wont to arise in the hall, deep, sepul- 
chral voices, from unknown recesses, uttered in loud and 
terrible unison the well-known cry, " Bucksheesh, How- 
ajji!" 

It was vain to resist such an appeal, and we answered 
it instantly ; whereat the voices changed, and the men 
emerged from their hiding-places with shouts of thanks. 

It was a gorgeous scene, worth visiting Egypt to look 
on that illumination ; and we sat for hours in the hall, 
gazing with never-ceasing w^onder and awe on the splen- 
did statues and lofty walls. Then we wandered with 
torches through all the chambers, scaring the owls and 
bats from their hiding-places ; and when it was nearly 
midnight we came out into the air, and there lay on the 



306 DESERTED ALTAR. 

river and on the temple front such a moonlight as we 
dream of in other lands, but never see except just here. 
The hoary rocks looked like silver, and the gray statues 
gleamed in the mellow light, and seemed to know its 
beauty. We threw ourselves down in the sand, and 
drank in all the beautiful scene ; and at last, when the 
ladies were gone down to the boat and were sleeping, I 
re-entered the temple, and sat down in the centre of the 
great hall alone, and watched the fading lights, and j)on- 
dered on the old, old story of the decay of empire. 

That altar seemed waiting the sacrifice, but who shall 
supply the victim or kindle the flame? The silent gods 
sat on their thrones and invited worship, but who will 
kneel to rock-hewn gods in Egypt now? There were 
times, said I to myself, Avhen the tramp of armed men 
and the rustle of soft silks were heard in these halls ; 
when 23riests and princes were here with maidens and 
matrons. There were times when men worshiped at 
that altar ; when this stone was worn with the knees of 
devotees. Where are they all ? One by one my failing 
candles answered the question. One by one they went 
out in gloom. A flicker, a spark, a little smoke, and all 
was over ; and at length all were gone but three that 
stood behind the altar, and all was gloomy excejDt in 
the holy room; and then, suddenly, as if a bat or an owl 
swept over them, they too vanished, and the blackness 
of darkness was around me. 

One can hardly imagine a place on earth where a man 
could be more emphatically alone than I then was at mid- 
night, two hundred feet from the air, in the deep caverns 
of Abou Simbal. Bats were flitting around me, and cer- 
tain sounds were not pleasant to hear, sharp rattling 
noises that were much like scorpions. I had killed one 
in the temple that evening. But I have felt more alone 
in my own country many a dark night than I did here. 



NUBIAN WORKMEN. 307 

It was but a few j^aces in a direct line, and when I Lad 
taken tliem the hill of sand was before me, and up this, 
creeping on hands and knees through the doorway, I 
emerged into the pure atmosphere. My shoulder had 
by this time become exceedingly painful, and sleep was 
out of the question. So I managed to get myself up into 
the corner, under the ear of the great statue at the north, 
and here I sat and waited till fatigue well-nigh over- 
powered me, and then, hastening down to the boat, I lay 
in my bed all night, restless and in pain, and glad to wel- 
come the dawn. 

While we were at breakfast a confused sound of voices 
outside puzzled us not a little ; and on going out we as- 
certained its cause in the presence of about seventy fine 
stalwart Nubians, sent over by the sheik of the village 
opposite to dig out the temple, in obedience to my in- 
structions at Derr. We had countermanded the order 
when we found the interior accessible on our upward 
trip ; but Abd-el-Atti had failed to transmit the direction, 
alleging as his reason a desire to impress the people with 
the importance of his masters. The next travelers whom 
our worthy dragoman takes up the Nile Avill find that it 
was his desire to magnify his own importance for future 
purposes. 

The poor fellahs were most glad to be excused. A 
holy horror exists in their minds toward digging out this 
temple. They have been several times compelled to it at 
severe loss of life in hot Aveather ; and they laid their 
hands on the tops of their heads Avith 2:)rofound gratitude 
when I sent them back to their boats to re-cross the 
river. 

The mountain, in which the great temple is hewn, 
slopes down to the river at an angle of perhaps forty-five 
dem-ees. It is solid rock. In the front of this mountain 
a niche is hewn out about one hundred and twenty five 



308 THE COLOSSI. 

feet wide, and deep enough to allow of a perpendicular 
face of ninety feet. Across the top of this perpendicular 
face is carved a cornice. In the niche, when it was hewed 
out, were left four gigantic blocks of stones, which were 
cut into sitting statues of the monarch whose was this 
great work, the Remeses, known to fame as Sesostris. 

Between the two middle statues is the great doorway, 
over the top of which, in a niche, is a colossal statue of 
one of the gods of Egypt, which seems less than life-size 
in contrast with the giants in front of it. 

Some idea of the size of the colossi may be gathered 
from a few of the dimensisons of the face and head of one 
of them. The length of the nose is three feet five inches; 
height of the forehead, to the edge of the cap or crown, 
twenty-eight inches ; width or length of the eye, twenty- 
nine inches ; width of the mouth, four feet ; distance 
from the nose to the bottom of the chin, three feet; 
length of the ear, three feet. The entire length of the 
head is about twelve feet, including an estimate of that 
part of it concealed by the cap or head-dress. A remark- 
able circumstance in connection with one of the colossi, 
the second from the north, is a fracture of the right arm, 
probably contemporary with the making of the statue, for 
the elbow is su23ported by a stone Avail under it, on which 
are carved many hieroglyphics. 

The smaller temple stands two hundred yards to the 
north of the large one, the ravine, down which the 
sand pours, being between them. Both temples are of 
the same period — that of the great Sesostris, whose name 
is carved on every pillar and portion of the walls. This 
great monarch appears to have devoted much of his 
wealth to beautifying this spot. Why he chose it for such 
expenditures tradition or story saith not. No mounds 
remain to mark the site of an ancient city, nor is there 
evidence of a palace or royal residence near it. Possibly 



ABOU SIMBAL. 



309 



some great event occurred on the Nile at this point, 
which led him to mark the bank in this manner ; and 
future ages may succeed in reading the story on these 
tablets. 

We passed the forenoon in measuring and examining 
the temple, of the interior of which I have already said 
sufficient. I would suggest to future explorers the exam- 
ination of the wall on the left as you enter, that is on the 
south side of the great hall. I am convinced that there 
are undiscovered chambers within this wall, which may 
contain matters of great interest. 

As we left Abou Simbal, shooting rapidly down stream, 
we passed a niche in the rock in which is a seated statue. 
Had I seen it before, I should have paused to examine it. 
None of the books mention it, but it is worth stopping 
to look at. It was late, however, and we were literally 
by it before I caught sight of it, and it was too late to 
return, and I was, withal, suffering too much from my 
wounded arm to climb up to it. 




29. 

We reached Derr again on the 28th, and Abdul Rah- 
man was on the shore, with his suite, to receive us. The 
large boat could not approach the city for want of water, 
and we accordingly took the small boat, and the ladies 
sat in that, and dropped slowly down stream, while we 
walked with the governor and his attendants along the 
shore to his residence, under a large sycamore fig-tree, 
the largest, with the exception of one near it, that I have 
seen in Egypt. Here we had pipes and coffee, and here, 
to our surprise, Abdul Rahman produced various presents 
which he had been collecting for us since we went up the 
river. Foremost among them he Hterally trotted out two 
ostriches, for which he had sent off to the desert, and 
which stood up in the square as proudly as desert lords. 
It was something to own ostriches, but what to do with 
them ? Either they or we must move off from the boat 
ifwe took them on board. We felt very much like the 
celebrated individual who became suddenly possessed of 
an elephant. A small and beautiful monkey was much 
more acceptable. He was just what we had been wish- 
ing for, and we received him with no little delight. The 
ostriches we retained in our possession during our stay at 
Derr, but when we left we were obliged to return them 
to the governor. He had also provided sheep, and fowls, 



A SURPRISE. 31X 

and Nubian mats, and indeed loaded us with presents, for 
all of which we could make no return then, but which I 
had it in my power afterward in some measure to repay, 
by procuring for Abdul Rahman a transfer to a post 
Avhich was much more to his taste. 

We formed a procession to go to the temple of Derr, 
not very similar to ancient religious processions. Trum- 
bull, Abdul Rahman, and myself followed the ladies, and 
a motley crowd of naked Nubians followed us. The en- 
tire city turned out to look at us. 

The temple is in sadly ruinous condition, and of little 
interest except for its great antiquity. Amada, a few 
miles below Derr, on the opposite side, is of much more 
interest, as well as possessing much beauty of painting 
and sculpture. We passed some hours very pleasantly at 
Derr, and then returned to our small boat, with the gov- 
ernor in company, and pulled down to Amada, where the 
large boat was awaiting us. 

Let no traveler miss this beautiful gem of antiquity, 
which lies on the sand a little way from the river. The 
paintings are beautifully preserved, and the period of the 
temple, not far from the date of the Exodus of the Israel- 
ites, makes it especially interesting. • 

Here we parted with Abdul Rahman and the doctor 
and resumed our downward passage. As we went swift- 
ly down the river, nearly at Korusko, while seated at 
dinner table, there was suddenly a cry that came in at the 
window with startling effect. 

" Ya Reis Hassanein ?" 

It was from a boat upward bound, and the demand 
was interrogative, that he might know if this were the 
boat he wished to speak. 

" Ya Reis Abdallah," went back. 

" Stop, O Hassanein — we have writings for Braheem 
Effendi !" 



312 LETTERS FROM HOME. 

Letters ! Braheem Effendi and his friend were in the 
small boat before the reis had time to shout that the 
letters were on shore where the Howajji of that boat was 
shooting. We pulled to the land, and in a palm-grove 
met a gentleman in an English shooting-jacket and other- 
wise loosely appareled, for the weather was warm. We 
did not -psLUse to exchange names. He handed me a 
package of letters and I thanked him heartily, sprang into 
the boat and pulled back as rapidly as j^ossible to gladden 
those who had suffered more than we who were stouter, 
from this long delay in hearing home news. 

I had an opportunity at Thebes of thanking Lord 
Paulet, for it was he who had found this package lying at 
Luxor on Mustapha's table. Knowing how welcome its 
contents would be he brought it up the river, directing 
his men to look out night and day for our boat and under 
no circumstances allow us to pass them. 

Who shall describe the keen pleasure of letters from 
home in such unexpected places. 

When they had been read and re-read, I went out and 
took my place on the cabin deck, where I usually sat 
facing the crew at their oars. Every eye was full of 
delight, for every man enjoyed our pleasure. There was 
never a Nile boat where the crew became so strongly 
attached to their employers. This was the effect of con- 
stant kind treatment and attention to their comfort. 

" Have you heard from your people, O Braheem Effen- 
di ?" asked Hassan Hegazi, who pulled the stroke oar, 
standing up to it at every pull. 

" Yes ; this paper has come to me from my city." 

Alas ! that I knew not enough of Arabic to give them 
the idea that is in that English word of words, home. 

" How many mahatta is it ?" 

Mohammed Ali established Khans along the Nile for 
his army or his caravans going to and from Upper Nubia, 



DOCTOR KANE. 313 

to rest in. They are at variable distances apart, but 
average about twelve miles, and that is the only measure 
of distance, except by hours, that they know of here. 

" It is many mahatta — more than five hundred." 

" Mashallah ! Tell us the news from your city, Bra- 
heem Effendi." 

"I will. Do you know that. there is a country away 
north of this where it is always cold, and ice and snow ?" 

" We have seen snow." 

" Yes ; but there it is always snow. The water is all 
ice, and the land all white with snow ; and, years ago, 
there was a brave Englishman sailed to that country in 
his ship, to find a way through the ice to countries be- 
yond, and he never came back." 

" Inshallah !" 

" And before I left my city, there was an American, a 
young man of most excellent heart and exceeding brave 
spirit, who went out in a ship to find the Englishman, and 
bring him to his own city and his wife ; but he was not 
heard of again, for he too did not come back from the 
country of cold." 

" Bismillah !" 

" And then the government in my city (beled is the 
only Arabic word to express city, country, or state, to the 
intelligence of the common classes) sent out another ship 
to find them ; and when I came from America, they had 
gone to the land of cold !" 

" Mashallah ! another !" 

" And these writings tell me that the last ship, sailing 
in the great ocean, saw another ship lying in a harbor, 
which had in it the very men they were seeking, who 
liad traveled far over snow and ice, and found this ship, 
and were going to England, all safe and well." 

" AUahu Akbar !" and they shouted all together over 
the safety of Kane and his companions. 

14 



314 AHEAVYSEA. 

It was nearly midnight when we reached Saboa — the 
Valley of Lions, so called from the lion sphinxes, an 
avenue of which was in front of the temple. The moon 
was up, and we determined to see the temj^le and go on. 
Coming to the land near the village, we climbed the 
bank, and found profound stillness among the huts. Not 
even a dog barked at us. There was a donkey tied near 
the houses, and Abd-el-Atti mounted him and performed 
some feats of riding for general amusement, but no one 
awoke. They sleep soundly, these poor dogs of Nubians. 
So we walked up to the temple and around it, and viewed 
its ruins, and returned to the boat and were away. These 
moonlight views are, after all, the pleasantest memories 
we shall have of Egypt. The temple at Saboa dates from 
the time of the great Remeses, and around it hang the 
memories of thirty centuries. It is as well to have seen 
such a spot in the silver light of the moon, and not by 
broad day, for one can thus better imagine it the abode 
of ancient stories. The men had other ideas of night and 
moonlight, and on our return to the boat we found each 
one of them loaded with fuel for their cooking, which they 
had stolen in and near the village. 

Next morning I awoke with the boat rolling and pitch- 
ing as if we were on the Atlantic in a small gale of wind. 
I hurried out on deck and found that we were in a narrow 
part of the river where the current was rapid, and the 
wind blowing against it strong from the north made a 
heavy sea, while, of course, we made no progress, but, on 
the contrary, rather drove up stream. The reis and crew 
were invisible. Every man of them was rolled up, head 
and heels, in his bournoose, and sound asleep. I turned 
in again and slept an hour, and went out again. We had 
gone a mile up stream, and they were all asleep as before. 
I shouted to the reis, woke him up and asked him why 
he didn't attend to his boat, and how long he intended to 



NUBIAN GIRL. 315 

pitch US about in that way ; and on the crew coming to 
their senses, we laid her in shore and made fast to the 
bank. 

I passed the day among the hills and in the villages on 
the shore, learning what I could of the domestic life of 
the poor Nubians. Their houses and furniture were simple 
enough, and their dress even more so. 

TJie jourchase of milk had been a source of amusement 
as well as difficulty all along the river, and while waiting 
here we endeavored to secure a supply. Abd-el-Atti sent 
for his pail, and we sat on the rocks among the huts on 
the hillside, and told the women to bring their milk and 
pour into it. Singularly enough the great objection which 
they had to parting with it originated in their love of 
butter. Not for eating purposes. That would be a waste 
of precious material. It was for their heads only, to soak 
their black locks withal. Hence one brought but a pint, 
and another half as much, and another but a little more. 
Before they would pour the milk into the common recep- 
tacle they must have the money ; and as for copper, they 
would not touch it. No, it must be silver. But we had 
no silver coin small enough to pay for such small amounts 
of milk, and after a long parley, Abd-el-Atti made a dash 
at the calabashes and poured them all into the pail to- 
gether. 

Then arose a cry, and while three or four of them 
shouted their indignation, one, a tall and beautful girl, 
one of the most elegantly-formed women that I have seen, 
and displaying her beauty in unvailed freedom, seized the 
handkerchief which Abd-el-Atti had laid on a rock, and 
in which was a dollar or so of money, and sprang like a 
^eer up the side of the rocks to a high point, where she 
turned and shook it at us with a shout of delight. Abd- 
el-Atti raised his gun and pointed it at her, but she knew 
well that it was only a threat, and she did not fear it. 



316 LEFT BEHIND. 

The entire fearlessness of the women in this part of the 
world is remarkable, and appears to be an evidence that 
they are well treated. In all the blows that I have seen 
struck here I never saw a man strike a woman ; and often- 
times when I have observed a man putting to flight a 
crowd who surrounded a doorway or who annoyed trav- 
elers, the women remained undisturbed, never appre- 
hending violence. It was a long time before we could 
induce the girl to return with the money, but when she 
did, she approached without a moment's fear of personal 
violence. 

A woman near this scene was grinding the castor-bean 
between two stones, and obtaining the oil for anointing 
purposes. Others were pounding corn into meal and 
making bread ; and all were stout, fat, sleek w^omen, look- 
ing as if fed on the fat of the fattest of lands, instead of 
the dry meal of Egypt. One man in America could not 
live a day on what will keep a Nubian family in good feed 
for a week. 

While I was wanderincf over the hills in search of foxes 
the wind went down, and the reis, with a stupidity for 
w^hich he had become somewhat remarkable, cast off the 
fasts and went on down'the river without looking for his 
passengers. I saw this from a hill-top nearly a mile away 
from the river, and had the pleasant consciousness withal, 
that every one on the boat had probably gone to sleep, 
and I might follow them till night in vain. Abd-el-Atti 
was somewhere among the mountains also, and I deter- 
mined instantly to look him up, and at that moment saw 
him a mile below the boat, hurrying to the bank of the 
river. He stopped them, and I came up an hour after- 
Avard, foot weary and glad to get on board again. 

At nearly midnight that night we were at Dakkeh, and 
determined to see it, as we had seen Saboa, by the light 
of the moon, which in fact had not yet risen. The vil- 



OLD PEOPLE. 31*7 

lagers were sound asleep, and did not hear us as we 
pulled the dry corn stalks from the roofs of then* houses, 
wherewith to build a fire in the desolate court of the 
temple. 

By their light I copied a quaint picture of a man, or a 
devil, or a god, playing on a harp. It is on one of the 
pillars at the left of the door as you enter. This temple 
is well worth a visit, if only for the exquisite state of per- 
fection in which many of the sculptures remain, especially 
those in the small sepulchral chamber on the east of the 
adytum, where, but for the smoke and blackness, one 
might almost imagine every thing fresh from the builders' 
hands. 

Returning from the temple, we found some of the vil- 
lagers awake, and pushed into their houses. There were 
the usual strange groups lying on the ground in profound 
slumber, forgetful for the time of the labors and the ills of 
life. An old man and an old woman, very old, lay by the 
embers of afire, and when I entered rubbed their eyes at the 
strange vision that interrupted their slumber, and looked 
piteously at me, as if they thought I had come to disturb 
them in their few remaining days. I dropped money into 
their hands, and they looked like new beings. Some an- 
tiques were here, a few broken vases, a coin or two, and 
some trifles of that kind ; and having bought all that were 
of any value, we left them to sleep again, and hastened 
back to the boat. It was a grand night again. The moon 
lay in the east with an air of majesty and calmness that I 
never saw surpassed, and I had blessed sleep that night 
and the dreams that most of all I longed for. Thank 
God again for dreams ! 




30. 




In the morning after we left Dakkeh we were 
{ ?^ approaching Gerf Hossayn. We were 

j __ ^gs^ welcomed at the shore by a crowd of 

hostile looking Nubians, and a demand of 
money for the privilege of landing. Tliis is 
one of the spots in Nubia celebrated for 
outrages and rebellions. It is the Lyons 
Egypt, where the government has more or 
less to do every year, in putting down insurrec- 
tions and punishing not a few bold and 
daring offenders against its authority. 
The temple at Gerf Hossayn is like that at Abou Sim- 
bal, cut out of the rock of the hill. The remains of a 
colonnade in front of it lead to the doorway, which ad- 
mits the visitor to a large chamber, the roof of which is 
supported by six colossal statues, all of which have been 
brilliantly painted, of which paint much brilliancy yet re- 
mains. In the walls of the chamber behind the openings 
between the statues, are eight niches, four on each side, 
in each of which are three seated figures. The second 
chamber has the wall supported by four large square pil- 
lars, and beyond this is the adytum with its altar and 
four seated statues behind it, the gods that have waited 
for thousands of years the return of the devout of old 



A ROW. 319 

times — who, alas, are wandering in shades of darkness, 
seeking vainly the abodes of their deities. There is a 
sublimity in the appearance of these stone gods sittino- 
behind their cold altars, in the profound stillness of the 
mountain's very heart, which awes the careless stranger. 
I stand before them as before the very embodied 
thoughts of olden times. I look at them as I would 
look at the visible presence in the flesh of one of Ho- 
mer's heroes. Nay, more than that — men's throbbing 
hearts have been hushed in awe before this stone. 
Woman's breast has been bared to seek a blessinsf 
from their cold, calm eyes. Red lips have trembled in 
convulsive prayer, have quivered in the agonies of hope 
deferred and failing faith, before the silent gods. The 
eyes of millions, generations after generations of the 
changing races of men, have been fixed with adoring 
gaze on their voiceless lips, and the faith of those gen- 
erations had given sanctity to what might otherwise 
pass for stone and nothing more. If the voice of the 
God should but speak into life those silent companions, 
and bid them utter their histories, what bones would 
shake in the vaults of old Egypt as the fearful stories of 
century after century came from those eloquent lips ! 

We did not leave Gerf Hossayn in peace. One native, 
blacker than any dream of darkness, grew specially in- 
solent to me, and I was compelled to order the crowd 
outside of the front colonnade, and forbid their entrance, 
placing Mohammed Hassan on guard with a j^istol to en- 
force obedience. This one rascal, however, threw stones 
at my sentinel, which was more than he could put up 
with. It was a miracle that he did not use the pistol. 
Instead of that he threw the pistol to Hassan Hegazi, 
another of the sailors who was with us, and sprang at his 
foe. The yell of the spectators brought me out of the 
temple in an instant, and I found the Nubian on his back 



32Q KALABSHEE. 

under his powerful assailant. I cleared a ring, and 
commanded Mohammed to drag him into the colonnade, 
which done, I allowed him to administer such justice as 
left om* Gerf Hossayn friends convinced of the impro- 
priety of interfering with the pleasures of a Howajji. 
When we returned to our boat we found alongside of 
her a small boat which j^roved to belong to Abdul Rah- 
man, and was then upward bound to Derr. I wrote him 
a note, suggesting one of the annual visitations to Gerf 
Hossayn which the government were accustomed to 
make, and, before I left Egy23t had the pleasure of hear- 
ing that he had acted on my recommendation, caught 
the especial ojftender, whom he would have no difficulty 
in recognizing by his sore head, and administered a 
proper amount of justice in the regular way. 

We passed Dendoor in the afternoon, going ashore 
only for an hour to examine the heap of ruins that 
mark the site of a temple, once beautiful and elevated 
on a fine terrace above the river, and that night we laid 
the boat up at Kalabshee. 

The next morning was the last day of December and 
of the year. 

The large temple of Kalabshee is interesting, as having 
been once very gorgeous, and still retaining remains of 
its golden chambers ; but the small rock-hewn temple on 
the hill-side is more interesting, as built or hewn by Rem- 
eses (Sesostris), and as having in its front two columns or 
pillars, which are among the oldest in the world, since 
they must date between 1300 and 1400 e.g., and whose 
simple polygonal shafts are very like the Grecian Doric 
in appearance. The representations of the deeds of Reme- 
ses, which were on the sides of the court in front of this 
temple, are defaced, but enough still remains to enable us 
to trace much of interesting history from their ancient 
lines. 



DESCENT OF THE CATARACT. ^21 

At noon we were again on the river, and as the old 
year died along the Nile and the new one came with cu- 
rious eyes to gaze on the wonders of Egypt of the ancient 
days, we were falling quietly into the little bay under the 
shadow of the temple that overhangs the eastern bank 
of Philse the beautiful. 

All day long that New-year day we wandered among 
the stately ruins of Philge. We had a sort of claim to 
possession of the island, for we had been its discoverers 
this winter, being the first travelers up from the lower 
country ; but we found an English gentleman in actual 
possession, and in the course of the day an American 
party came up on donkeys from Es Souan to see the 
most beautiful of islands. Three ladies, dressed in black, 
and wearing the broad black English flats on their heads, 
looked down on us from the summit of the lofty tower 
of the propylon of the temple of Isis, and we, sitting 
among the ruins at the north end of the island, consid- 
ered them as in some respects interlopers on our domains. 
Nevertheless it was pleasant to see females from civilized 
lands once more, and to know that we were returning 
into the com^Dany of fellow Christians. 

We sent the Phantom down the river early in the 
morning. Of her fearful passage of the cataract we had 
great accounts in the evening at Es Souan, when we re- 
joined her. How she went bravely down the first great 
rapid, danced like a bird through the foam and wild dash 
of the long reach of the cataract ; how thereupon Bag 
Boug sprang at Reis Hassanein and seized his turban, 
which is by custom the fee of the reis of the cataract on 
a successful descent ; how old Reis Hassan seized the 
other end, and a fight ensued between the four cataract 
reises, during which the boat struck a rock and went over 
on her side, and a loud yell rose from fifty throats ; how 
Abd-el-Atti threw Bag Boug into the river and knocked 

14* 



322 NEW year's calls. 

Selim overboard after him, and made terrible work gen- 
erally among them, till the Phantom swmig off into deep 
water ; all these things we heard in the evening from 
Reis Hassanein, who sat contented on the tojD of the 
kitchen watching the preparation of our New-year's din- 
ner, and from Hassan, the bright-eyed cabin boy, whose 
heart had been in his mouth a dozen times between Phi- 
lae and the foot of the cataract. 

As the sun was going westward, we hailed an old boat 
that lay under the bank of the main land, and a naked 
boy and a miserable old man with a ragged cloth around 
his loins paddled it across. It had an awning of coarse 
straw matting across the stern, and under this we lay 
down while they ferried us over to the main land, where 
we met donkeys which Abd-el-Atti sent up from Es 
Souan on his arrival there. 

I have before spoken of the road to Es Souan. I had 
walked part of it with our missionary friends on a moon- 
light night some time before, and now by daylight the 
road was scarcely less picturesque and wild. 

Our donkeys were none of the best. I had not used 
mine five minutes before it became evident that he had a 
weakness in his hinder parts, incapacitating him for car- 
rying a hundred and seventy odd pounds of American 
flesh and blood, and I took to my own means of locomo- 
tion. 

It was evening when we reached Es Souan, and here a 
gay scene awaited us. 

There were seven boats here, besides our own, carrying 
American, English, French, and Prussian flags, and after 
dinner, when it was about noon at home, we followed the 
illustrious custom of the Knickerbocker city, and made 
calls, while the ladies on the Phantotn received. When 
we returned, we found some twelve persons in the little 
cabin, and a merry evening that was for us, returning, as 



JESSAMINE. 323 

it were from exile, suddenly into all the refinements of 
civilization. 

When our friends had left the boat, we amused our- 
selves and the natives with a few fire-works, and the vari- 
ous boats saluting, we made the rocks of Elephantina 
echo all night to the sound of fire-arms. 

Next day, at eight, we left, Avitli a chorus of the row- 
ers, as they lay down to their oars. 

It was a dark and threatening day, but we went swiftly 
down stream, pausing nowhere, and at nine in the even- 
ing passed under the hill on which stands Komn Ombos. 

I was shooting along shore, next morning, for a head 
wind kept the Phantom back, when Mohammed Hassan, 
my constant attendant, shouted, " Yasmin ! Yasmin !" 
and dashed at a bunch of green leaves, with a zeal that 
aroused, if it did not surprise me. Jessamine is a wood 
most highly prized by the Orientals for pipe-stems, and 
here was a quantity of it. 

Reis Hassanein, seated on the cabin deck of the Phan- 
to7n^ a mile away, saw us and shouted aloud to know 
what we were doing. The distance at which these 
Arabs talk is incredible. Mohammed replied, and I saw 
the reis tumble down into the small boat in a great hurry. 
He hastened ashore to share the plunder. We secured 
as much as would have cost eight or ten dollars to pur- 
chase in Cairo, and this I sent on board, with bunches of 
the fragrant blossoms, for Amy and Miriam. I went on 
shooting along the bank of the river, getting sundry rab- 
bits, pigeons, and partridges. 

I arrived, at length, at the vast sand-stone quarries of 
Hagar Silsilis. Their extent is very great, and their 
chief feature of interest consists in deep, narrow, rock 
cuts, roads hewn from the river back into the hills, not 
more than twenty feet wide, and having sides often from 
fifty to a hundred feet high, perpendicular. I was lost in 



324 HAGAR SILSILIS. 

one of these, and found my way to the river just in time 
to hail the boat as it drifted by. They i^ut me across 
to the other side, where we all landed to see the various 
rock-hewn tablets, and small temples, or j)raying places, 
which here abound. Many of these are of the deepest 
interest to the Egyptian scholar, and the attention of 
Egyptiologists is just now directed very carefully to the 
inscriptions at Hagar Silsilis. 

Many of these open chapels are exceedingly beautiful, 
and on some the brilliant painting remains with very 
much freshness. Perhaps the most interesting is the most 
northern corridor, where we find repeated often the car- 
touche of Horus, the successor of the great Amunoph 
who is the original of the vocal Memnon. These chapels 
were probably used by the laborers. The quarries, which 
are of very ancient date, furnished the stone for most, 
if not all of the great temples along the river below this 
point. Thebes and Karnak w^ere doubtless hewn out of 
these hills. I looked in vain for a cartouche of Memai, 
which Wilkinson saw on the rock somewhere near here, 
a king who was of a very early period, if he be, as that 
learned gentleman has thought possible, identical with 
Moeris. 

The place derives its name from a large rock standing, 
column like, near the river, which is here very narrow. 
The word hagm\ or hajjar^ as it would be pronounced in 
Syrian Arabic, signifies a rocTc^ and Silsilis a chain., there 
being a tradition that in some ancient time a chain was 
stretched across the river here as a barrier against south- 
ern invasion. 

I walked on down the river until dark. An Arab had 
shot two crocodiles, and wanted to sell me their skins, 
but it was not in my line. Toward evening I hailed the 
boat, and the small boat came and put me across the river, 
where Abd-el-Atti was shooting along shore as I had 



GYMNASTICS. 



325 



been. While waiting for him, I observed that the shore 
was covered with cornelians and agates in large quanti- 
ties. I filled my pockets, and threw nearly a half 
bushel into the boat, from which to let the ladies make 
selections, and then returned on board. 

A loud cry, and a sudden thump on a sand-bank, inter- 
rupted our quiet, in the evening, and the next moment 
the reis nearly broke his neck as he fell off the front of 
the cabin to the main-deck. He had been dozing there, 
as usual, droning out a chorus for the men to row by, and 
when she struck, he toppled over forward, and came 
down in a heap in front of the door. Then ensued the 
usual demand for medicine and surgery, and so the night 
passed on. 




31. 

Early next morning we were near Edfou ; and as I 
had visited the temple alone on the upward j^assage we, 
of course, had a stop to make here. 

The reis, being in a desperate hurry to get to land be- 
fore another boat which was close behind us, plunged the 
Phantom on a sand-bar, where the pelicans and cranes 
laughed at us for three hours of a bright morning, and 
the Breeze^ the other boat, following us blindly, fell on 
the same shoal, and stuck fast on the same bar. The 
men heaved, and pulled, and braced their backs under 
the boat, and strained their brawny limbs, and looked wist- 
fully at their breakfixst on deck, which the reis wouldn't 
let them have until they got the boat oft'; and so the sun 
went up high, and the chances were that we should he 
there till the next flood of the Nile. 

Trumbull, who had been sitting on deck, quietly smok- 
ing his chibouk, and had now finished it, called out to 
Hajji Hassan to make a rope fast to her stern, and take 
it off* across the stream, where three of the men took 
hold, standing nearly up to their necks in water. A few 
easy pulls in that direction started the sand under the keel, 
and she swung gently off", while the poor wretches who 
had been working under the sides, swung themselves in 
with an exclamation, " Mashallah !" and took to their 
breakfast as if starving. Fifteen minutes more brought 



A DARK HOLE. 327 

US to the land, at the same spot in which we lay on our 
way up the river ; whence we started on foot, wliile the 
ladies rode donkeys, up to the village and the temples. 

The travelers from the other boat were a party of four 
from Albany, tliree ladies and a gentleman, and they soon 
arrived, so that there Avere five American ladies and three 
gentlemen in the temple at Edfou together. I have 
spoken of this old and magnificent building on my way 
up the river, and I shall not pause here to describe it. 
It is one of those wonders of Egypt best described 
by saying that a large part of the modern village, a 
part containing several hundred inhabitants, is situated 
on the roof of the rear portion, the adytum^ of the tem- 
ple. The filth of centuries is accumulated within ; and I 
record here the fact, that I did not enter the adytum, as 
this was the only hole, large or small, in Egypt, which 
there was any object in entering, that I shrunk from. It 
occurred on this wise. I Avas loitering around the en- 
trance, looking at the vast towers of the gateway, while 
the ladies sat in a picturesque group in the grand court, 
under the shade of the western corridor. 

" Antika, antika kebeer, antika tieb keteer minhenna !" 
said an Arab boy to me. 

I had heard it from so many that I thought there must 
be something worth the seeing, and shouting to Miriam 
that I would return soon, I pushed on after the boy, who 
led me, with a motley train behind me, up to the village, 
which was on the roof of the adytum, and through two 
or three of its dirty alleys. The crowd of women and 
children began to increase around me, and at length my 
leader pushed open the board entrance of a mud hut, 
and told me to follow him. I followed him, and they 
followed me. They were of all grades and colors, and 
stages of nakedness and filth ; some fifty Arab or Egyp- 
tian women and children, not a man among them ; and I 



328 AN INTERIOR, 

looked around me in the dim hut, thinking myself the 
centre of altogether the worst-looking group of humanity 
that ever radiated around my person. Up to this 
time I entertained the idea that I was to find an antique 
for sale, and I had some doubts whether it would turn 
out to be a mummy or a vase ; for every valuable curi- 
osity is most diligently concealed from the government 
officers. But the boy demanded now whether I had a 
candle, and on my replying yes, and producing my never- 
failing companion and some matches, he seized the candle, 
lit it, while I looked on patiently, and then droj^ping flat 
on his face on the floor, vanished out of sight. 

It was magical. I was for an instant in astonished 
silence, till the group began shouting, " Antika tieb, tieb 
keteer !" and pointing downward, directed my attention 
to what I had not before observed, that the side wall of 
the hut was the upper part of the wall of the temple, and 
that the boy had crawled through a hole about a foot 
high, by tAvo or two and a half wide, and was actually 
gone, by this " hole in the wall," into the holy of holies, 
which priests and princes of ancient days were accus- 
tomed to enter in lordly processions of solemn grandeur. 

I stooj^ed and looked in. The boy was calling me. I 
lay down and worked my way in, snake fashion, fir 
enough to see that I was in a sculptured room, half filled 
with dust, and straw, and filth, and then seven fleas at- 
tacked my feet, seventeen my Avaist, and sevenscore my 
neck, and I returned to outer light, and the stifling pres- 
ence of the women and children, who vociferously de- 
manded if it was not a magnificent antique, and if my 
bucksheesh would not be proportionably grand. I scat- 
tered some coppers on the floor, whereupon there ensued 
the usual rough-and-tumble scene, a confused heap of 
heads, arms, legs, and bodies in the middle of the room ; 
and I came out into the air. As I passed the front of the 



ARRAKEE. o20 

temple on my way back to the ladies, a hard-looking old 
case of an Arab whispered in my ear that if I wanted to see 
some good arrakee he was just the man who could gratify 
me. I thought he was, from his personal appearance. 
He was, in fact, the one-eyed scribe whoso close attach- 
ment to the old governor I described in a former chap- 
ter ; and I now had an additional explanation of the red 
face and blear eyes of that functionary, of whose diligent 
pursuit of my brandy I before wrote. 

Willing to see all that was to be seen, I assented, and 
the old fellow led me to the spot. For the benefit of 
future travelers who may wish to drink at Edfou, I will 
inform them that it is in the street running from the front 
of the temple, third door on the left ; knock once and say 
something low about bucksheesh, and an old woman — if 
she is not dead, as she seemed likely to be soon — a fac- 
simile of the old man, will open the door, lead you 
through a court into a smaller court, and exhibit alto- 
gether the most primitive still that your eyes will ever 
rest on, wherein, by aid of dates and fire, there is manu- 
factured wherewith to poison the poor devils who lie lazily 
around the temple to pick up travelers' coppers, and insure 
them a poor reception from the Prophet after they are 
dead. On the whole, however, it was good arrakee that 
the old man made, although the stuff is detestable. The 
taste is anise seed, the effect that of the lowest grade of 
whisky. I tasted and departed. As I came out of t'.e 
hut into the street, where were now at least a hundred 
natives crowded around our party, who were purchasing 

antiques, I saw the old man slide up to Mr. R , the 

Albany gentleman aforesaid, and whisper as he had to 

me, and a few minutes later Mr. R came out of the 

hut with a comical expression of countenance, and it was 
difficult to say Avhether it was owing to the oddity of the 
circumstance or the vileness of the tipple. 



330 WILD FOWL. 

There was a little girl in the crowd, innocent of dra- 
pery, who came up to me repeatedly Avith four coins at a 
time in her hand, which I rejjeatedly purchased before I 
observed that it was the same child each time. I then 
saw that there must be a treasury of them somewhere. 
Obviously she could not carry them about her person, 
that was too manifest, and I made her take me to her 
liome, a mud hut a little way off. It was inhabited by an 
old woman, who denied entirely that she had any more ; 
but persuasion and promises produced the result at 
length, and she brought me out some hundreds of coins, 
chiefly of the eastern empire, but many more valuable. 
I selected and purchased all that I wished ; but the stock 
will last her for years, and any one wishing for coins may 
find her there. Street and number I can't give. 

It was a delicious afternoon. The memory of it haunts 
me. I can not say why, except that earth, air, and sky 
were in more perfect unison of beauty that day than ever 
before. We dined early, and after dinner I took my gun 
and strolled down the river, leaving the boat to follow 
when it would. The evening came on, and I found myself 
on the beach, where a long point of mud or sand, running 
two miles down the river, com})letely shut me off from 
communication with the boat if she should come along, 
but as yet I saw nothing of her. Retracing my steps 
with Mohammed Hassan, my constant companion in such 
walks, close behind me, I took to the point and followed 
it down, sliooting an occasional wild fowl, for Edfou 
abounds in every species of duck, and the river is filled 
with geese and various other water fowl, which find ex- 
cellent feeding-ground in the lake and flats back of the 
village. 

A boat coming slowly up the river with full sail set, 
passed close to me, and I exchanged salutes with her 
owners. She carried English colors. The last rays of 



INSECURE FOOTING. 331 

the sun lit tlieni joyously as she swept on up the stream, 
and I was left alone with my Arab attendant on the sandy 
point, and the swift night was coming down on us, as it 
always comes in that land of clear air and deep skies. 
At length it became manifest that it was unsafe to walk 
furtlier. The bar on which I was walking was of mud 
and sand mingled, and had now narrowed to less than 
two hundred feet, while it oozed and sank under my feet 
at each step that I made in advance. It was that pecu- 
liar mud, too, Avhicli reminds one of what, when boys, we 
called leather-ice^ which was apparently tough and strong, 
and yet would yield under a steady j^ressure, so that we 
could run across it, but could not rest on it. I could 
strike the breach of my gun down heavily and firmly on 
it, and it would not give, but by tapping it gently I would 
change the consistency of it to mere loose mud, and then 
a small circle would sink and leave clear water in its place. 
Taking our position on the liighest point of the ridge, a 
foot or two above the river level, and changing our feet 
constantly from place to place, we waited impatiently the 

coming of the boat. The Breeze^ Mr. R 's boat, shot 

by us, and sent me a halloo and a salute, to which I re- 
plied by waving my hat, and a few minutes later the 
Phantom was visible leaving the land. It was now a 
question whether they would see us or not, as it was 
growing so dark ; but the voice is heard an incredible 
distance over these still waters. Our call was heard 
and answered more than a mile away, and the small boat 
came down rapidly for me. But it could not approach 
within thirty feet of the land, and I waded off to it, declin- 
ing the proffered shoulders of the man, lest by contact I 
should take off what is as bad as disease, and much worse 
than dirt. 

As I came on board the men lay down to their oars 
with a will, and it appeared tliat they had agreed on a 



332 ROMAN RUINS. 

race with the crew of the Breeze^ w^hich was now far 
ahead of us. In the evening, as we were seated quietly 
at our round table, w^e felt a sudden increase in the velocity 
of the boat, and, looking out, saw that we were alongside 
of the other boat, w^hose crew had waited for us. Then 
the swarthy Arabs sprang to their oars, and the reis, 
seated at the toj) of the ladder to the upper deck, led 
them in a song, to which they gave a stout and hearty 
chorus, while the other boat sang another refrain ; and 
the two flew through the w^ater at a speed far surpassing 
any thing I had supposed possible with such heavy ob- 
jects. Now one boat was ahead, and now the other. 
Now the Breeze led us half a length, and now we came 
w\i with her and edged slowly by her. It was impossible 
to write at the table, so fast did we go, and so much did 
the boat spring to the strokes of the oars, and the race 
was not over till we both came to the land under the 
shade of the sont trees that line the bank at El Kab^ the 
ancient Eileithyas, of which the reader will remember I 
spoke in a former article. 

Here we had proposed to pass a day, and here we found 
one of the most interesting jioints in Egypt. The ruins of 
the ancient city are more extensive than of any other in 
Egypt, but these consist almost solely of crude brick re- 
mains, walls, and hea2)S which cover a great sj^ace, in- 
cluded within the circuit of a gigantic wall, whose height 
and thickness must have been cyclopean. It is not in 
these, however, that the interest of a stay at Eileithyas 
consists, but in the tombs of the Egyptians with which 
the hill back of the plain is perforated, some of which are 
among the most curious and instructive in Egypt. 

One or two of these are among the most ancient known 
in the Nile valley, containing very curious chronological 
tables of kings' names which are, as yet, a puzzle to the 
scholar. The ruins are chiefly of Roman times. 



ANCIENT HOMES. 333 

I was awake, as usual, at day break. Trumbull was 
never behind rae. We were always out with the first 
rays of light, and I commenced my day invariably with a 
plunge in the ancient river. The Breeze lay close by us, 
and all was profoundly still on board of her, as we went 
out with our guns for an hour's shooting among the ruins 
of the old city. 

It was a scene of indescribable desolation. The only 
spot in all Egypt where there are remains of the houses of 
the ancient inhabitants. These, being built of crude brick, 
have elsewhere disappeared, but Eileithyas was inclosed 
in an immense wall of the same material, not less than 
twenty feet thick and forty or fifty high. Tlie remains 
of this wall have acted as a preserver of the dusty walls 
of houses within its circuit, at least from winds, and 
they are, therefore, left, in ruins, but enough of them 
standing to show that here the 2)eople of ancient days had 
habitations. Here families lived, children played, mothers 
bore offspring ; all the home passions, emotions, incidents, 
affections, and sorrows of life had succession here ; and 
any one of these little inclosures has held a world of 
thought and hope two thousand years ago, all gone now 
— all utterly vanished — all as pure dreams now as is yon- 
der blue sky, beautiful, glorious, distant, intangible, un- 
approachable. 

In a hollow, where was once a sacred lake connected 
with one of the temples, we started a fox, and in the low 
water that filled the bottom of the hollow, we put up a 
dozen snipe and shot three or four of them. 

As the sun came up pigeons began to fly, and we 
stationed ourselves on the highest point of the old wall 
and shot two or three dozen as they went over. 

Meantime, on board the boat, Hajji Mohammed was 
busy at his breakfast arrangements, which were kept in 
abevance till the ladies came out of their cabin, and then 



334 TOMBS AT EL-KAB. 

Ferrajj was despatched to find and call us. Such was the 
morning routuie always when the boat was not sailing. 

Never were two ladies in brighter condition than Amy 
and Miriam, and never were donkeys more miserable 
brouscht for ladies to ride on than now awaited them on 
the bank above the boat. But these were the best that 
the country alForded, and they mounted, while Trumbull 
and myself declined the proffer of similar conveyances, 
and started on foot across the plain, which stretched away 
to the foot of the mountain, shooting as we went at what- 
ever wild animals we found haunting the ruins of the 
ancient palaces of the Romans. Half an hour brought us 
to the foot of the hills, and lending our own assistance to 
the donkeys, we succeeded in carrying the ladies up the 
steep ascent to the platform in front of the first and chief 
row of sepulchres, when they dismounted, and we pro- 
ceeded together to examine the empty chambers that 
were once fitted up for the long abode of mortality await- 
ing immortality. 

I shall not pause to describe these tombs. We sat in 
one of them and welcomed the arrival of the party from 
the Breeze^ who now came up, and we looked out on the 
flow of the river, and up toward Edfou, and down to- 
ward Thebes, and again we talked of the grandeur of the 
sepulchral sjDots which the men of old time selected, as if 
they designed to look out on the flow of their lordly river 
in the solemn nights, when ghosts of all ages have been 
permitted to walk abroad. 

I believe that I mentioned, in my description of my 
voyage up the river, that I passed a mornmg at this place 
searching for antiques. We desired to do so again, and 
having given directions to our boat to droj) down the 
river, we went on to the village, which lay a few miles 
down the plain, crossing the same broad j^lateau on which, 
a few weeks before, I had my fast run on an Arab 



FOUR AMERICAN BOATS. 336 

horse. I was now on foot, and went along very quietly 
in the hot sunshine. At the village we were surrounded 
by the inhabitants in an instant, and, their curiosity hav- 
ing been first satisfied, they brought us wdiat they had 
collected during our absence up the river. 

The stranger to Egypt perhaps wonders what sort of 
antiques we can expect to find in such places. Certainly 
it must be something smaller than a statue or sphinx, for 
these are plenty, and Avhoever wishes to load a ship wdth 
one or a dozen may do so. But the tombs of Egypt in- 
close unknown treasures of antiquity. Of these, to the 
traveler, jewelry and articles of personal ornament are 
usually most curious and desirable, and the tombs often 
furnish these of great beauty and value. 

It was in hopes that we might find something valuable 
that we made constant purchase of all the trifles that the 
people brought to us ; and, after loading ourselves with 
earthern figures, images of various sorts, and coins in pro- 
fusion, of various ages and conditions, we came down to 
the boat, which had dropped down the river to a point 
opposite the village. On the broad plain of El Kab that 
day we had a perfect mirage ; so perfect, that with a full 
assurance of the impossibility of seeing the river, we dis- 
puted the possibility of a mirage on so small a plain, and 
refused to believe it w^as not water until we marked its 
boundary, and rode up to that boundary. 

That afternoon we cast off froui the shore, the Bree'zs 

being ahead of us, and Mr. R having come on board 

our boat. After dinner, Avhile w^e were quietly sipping 
our wine, we were roused by the Arabs crying out that 
there was an American flag ahead, and rushing out on 
deck we saw a boat coming uj) with a fresh breeze, and 
behind it yet another, carrying also the stars and stripes. 
It was a sight worth seeing that, and not very common 
any where in the eastern world. Four American boats 



336 TOBACCO. 

together on the Nile ! Of course we all shouted — every 
body must shout under such circumstances. Trumbull, 

Mr. K , and myself sprang into our small boat 

and boarded the other boats — the ladies having only 
waved their hands and helped the shouting a little. The 
Phantom and the Breeze went drifting down the river, 
and we went up with the new-comers, who could give us 
late news from home and from the civilized world, to 
which we had so long been comparative strangers ; and 
at length, as evening approached, we suddenly remem- 
bered that the Phantom and the Breeze were gone. 

We sprang ashore and hastened down the bank of the 
river. A mile below, we found our small boat waiting 
for us, and into this we hastened. The sun was setting — 
short twilight followed. The night came down, dark and 
cold. There were pij^es in the boat, and tobacco plenty, 
that universal solace. Let me see the man that dares 
talk to me of the " deleterious eifects of nicotine," when 
I am recallino: its delicious consolations in such times as 
was that. 

Eight — nine — ten o'clock, and still the men rowed, and 
still no signs of the Phantom or the Breeze. 

" Now, men — lay on well — i:)ull, pull — you shall have 
Tombak to-night ;" and they sent her through the cur- 
rent, six of them pulling well, until my pistol was an- 
swered far down the river, and the red light flashed 
out at last. The boats were side by side, their bright 
cabin liohts shininsj on each other. 

Were you ever abroad on a cold night of autumn, and 
driving homeward over weary hills ? and do you remem- 
ber the delight of the warm room, the cheerful lamp, the 
hissing tea urn, and the welcome of pleasant lips ? Such 
was ours in the cabin of the Phantom, 



33. 

At midnight we were at Esne, and in the morning I 
went again up to the temple. 

The mummies lay as I had left them some w^eeks be- 
fore, no traveler having ventured to disturb their repose. 
There were several boats at Esne, and while I sat in the 
portico of the temple, one, and another, and another 
stranger came in, and voices of various lands disturbed 
the quiet of Ptolemaic times. 

The governor had no donkey that suited me or Abd-el- 
Atti, whom I represented. He came down to the boat 
with a drove of them, large and small, gray and black, 
male and female, but he said himself that he could not 
scare up one that he could recommend, and I left a gen- 
eral order to have one sent down by boat to Cairo, and 
so we departed. 

I was dozing on the upper deck after an evening chi- 
bouk, discussing with Trumbull the shape of some hiero- 
glyphic about which our memories differed, when the 
Phanto'in brought up with a plunge on a sand bank that 
sent the rowers over backward into each other's laps, and 
disturbed Reis Hassanein's stupidity to an alarming de- 
gree. He raved, stormed, swore, called on Allah, and 
vowed over and again that there was no Illah but Allah, 
but it was all of no use. Three hours she lay there, and 

15 



338 STROLLS ALONG SHORE. 

two more on other banks before the morning, and then 
as we approached the Gebelein it was blowing a hm-ricane 
up the river and he couldn't get along an inch, and we 
lay-to from morning till nearly sunset. Two or three 
boats dashed up the river in glorious style, exchanging 
salutes with us as they passed. Seeing one with Ameri- 
can colors coming up, we pulled out toward her, and as 
they saw our flags, for the Bree^x was lying near us, they 
let their sheet fly and rounded to close by us, and made 
a call on the ladies. It proved to be the boat of two 
gentlemen from New Orleans, who had met some of the 
party on the Breeze some where in Europe months before. 
These pleasant reunions are among the most inspiriting 
incidents of foreign travel. They made a half-hour call, 
and then flew on before the breeze, of which we could 
not wish them a continuance, for we were by it kept back 
from Thebes, which lay half a day from us. 

I strolled ofl* over the fields with Abd-el-Atti and a 
milk-pail. Among my pleasantest recollections of Egypt 
are those adventures with Abd-el-Atti among the fella- 
heen. While he sought some one who would sell him 
milk, I sat down in a sunny place and chatted with the 
crowd of curious people who came around me. Once in 
a while I bought a valuable antique, and many rare coins 
I picked up in those places. There is but one memory of 
that day that is specially fixed on my mind. 

On the bank of the river, near this village, I sat down 
and watched the women cominfj for water. One and 
another came, each helping the one before her to lift the 
enormous jar to the top of her head. 

At length there appeared one of the noblest specimens 
of feminine beauty that I remember. A tall and splend- 
idly formed girl came down close by me, the wind blow- 
ing back her single thin cotton garment so as to reveal 
the outlines of a perfect form, one that Praxiteles might 



A DUMB BEAUTY. 339 

have dreamed, one such as it is seldom permitted human 
eyes to see. Her tunic was open from neck to waist, and 
her bust, contrary to the common apj^earance of the 
Egyptian women, was full and of delicate outline. Her 
face was Greek, her ll^s classical in their severe beauty. 

Imagine my astonishment as this vision swept by me, 
not three feet distant, and paused within a rod to dip 
water in a heavy jar. I gazed admiringly at her, as 
who would not ? She returned my gaze with cold curi- 
osity, and eyes devoid of interest, but dark, lustrous eyes 
withal, that had fire in them which might be made to 
flame. 

She had on her neck a string of antiques, chiefly scara- 
bsei. I had seen them thus before, and had purchased 
some curious antiques from the necks and wrists of the 
women. I walked up to her and took hold of them. 
She stood like a statue, motionless, with her black eyes 
fixed on mine, but was silent, and allowed my examina- 
tion without fear or objection. 

" How much shall I pay you for your necklace ?" 

She looked, but made no reply, and stooping down, 
lifted her jar ; a friend helped her swing it to her head, 
and then, dropping her hands, she walked up the bank in 
stately style, nor looked back, nor seemed to have the 
slightest interest in the fate of Braheem Eflendi. To be 
cut thus by an Egyptian ! On reflection, I have thought 
that she was perhaps deaf^id dumb — possibly idiotic, 
but I think not that, for she was too splendidly beau- 
tiful. 

It was after midnight — a calm, still night — when we 
swept around the lower point of the island, and swinging 
into the branch which comes down from the eastward, 
laid our boat at the land close under the columns of the 
Temple of Luxor. The men were very still in all their 
movements, for the ladies were sleeping, and we had a 



340 LUXOR BY NIGHT. 

crew that were remarkably intelligent for Arabs, and re- 
markably attentive to our wishes. 

Trumbull and I sat on the cabin-deck, wrapped in our 
cloaks, for the night was cool, and watched the growing 
magnificence of the temple as "wce approached it. It 
seemed to rise in the air before us, and its stupendous 
proportions became gigantic, even supernatural, in that 
dim light which seems always to be the fitting shroud 
of Egyptian grandeur. The columns of the principal 
court — which are now the only portion fronting on the 
river, the rest being concealed by mud houses — appeared, 
in their lonesome greatness, like the memorials of a race 
of men that knew and talked with gods. In their shad- 
owy presence we could well imagine the ghosts of the 
departed watching our arrival. 

There were no boats at Luxor. The fresh wind of the 
previous day was too valuable to upward-bound travelers, 
and they had all gone on without pausing to look at Thebes. 
It was well for us that it was so, for it appeared more as 
if we were arriving at the desolate site of an ancient 
city, and less like a resort of modern sight-seers. A few 
days later, when there were four or five boats lying at the 
shore, and morning and evening saw ten or fifteen gayly- 
dressed ladies and gentlemen strolling across the open 
space which lies between the temple and the beach, the 
scene was very different, and almost modern. But now 
all was profoundly ancient, c^.^ ^^^^T ^^^^^ f^^* ^"^® looked 
old, as they bent down over the site of a city of a hun- 
dred temple-gates, and the stars — 

What a vigil theirs has been above the mighty Nile ! 
The steady march of Time has been below ; God nevei^ 
yet permitted him to tread the sapphire floors above. 
There, all is as it was when Eve was young in Eden, and 
human love and hope were as pure as the hopes and loves 
of angels. Below, all is changed ; the mark of years is 



LIGHT AMONG THE TOMBS. 341 

on every thing. But nowhere on the surface of the little 
globe that we call earth — nowhere, has the vigil been as 
sad as here. 

It was in the morning of the new world — in the very 
dawn of human existence after the flood — that the found- 
ations of this city were laid. He who led his followers 
here had heard the story of the deluge from Noah, per- 
haps had seen its subsiding waves. And after him nations 
and races swept over Egyj^t, and dynasties changed with 
the shifting desert sand, and the river rose and fell, and 
rose and fell, and the same solemn, calm watchers, looked 
down, night after night, on all. 

I thought of one scene as I sat that night on deck. 
You may think it an imagination, pure fancy, or what 
you please. It is vain to forbid imaginations in such a 
place as that. Midnight, profound and calm ; moonlight, 
holy as the memories that seemed verily to comj^ose it ; 
stars, watching with deep eyes the plains of their long 
vigil ; ruins, that were gray centuries ago, and on whose 
mystical forms the men of early ages gazed Avith as much 
of awe and wonder as we do now — all this in a land 
where men had lived and toiled, had walked and talked, 
and eaten, and drunken, and slept, had lived and perished, 
in successive generations, since a period to which neither 
record nor tradition can assign a date — all this, I say, was 
certainly enough to rouse imagination, and quicken fancy 
to its freest play. 

Once, as the boat was coming to the land, I looked 
across to the western hills, above the throne of Memnon, 
.md for an instant saw a flashing light, that might have 
passed for a will-o'-the-wisp among the graves of the an- 
cient Thebans. I knew it was no ghost light, and I knew 
as well that it was a veritable farthing-dip, and no doubt 
held in the hands of an Arab who was so intent on his 
work of robbing a newly-opened tomb, that he forgot his 



342 THE AVENUE OF MEMNON. 

caution for a moment, and allowed his light to shine out 
on the plain. Perhaps no other person saw it, but it was 
enough to call before me the scene on the hillside, and in 
an instant all of its wild strangeness was present to my 
imagination. 

This hillside, as the reader already knows, is full of the 
dead. It is very manifest that a broad street once crossed 
the plain, near the head of which Menmon and his silent 
companion sit now as then, and the passage between them 
led onward, by temple walls and stately erections, to the 
place of burial — the place where now, from day to day, 
we open tombs and disturb the rest of ancient Egyptians. 
That all is changed, no one need be told. The great 
plain of Thebes is a cultivated field, and Menmon and his 
nameless coraj^anion sit in solitary grandeur, looking with 
mournfully-fixed gaze half the year on the flood that 
spreads around their feet, and the other half over the 
desolate site of the great city. But Memnon would not 
sit so quietly on his rocky throne if the desecration that 
is carried on behind his back were perj^etrated before his 
eyes. It would rouse an Egyptian god from his stony 
silence, and startle the very sleep of granite kings to see 
the hideous disentombment of their ancient followers, and 
the profane pollutions of the sanctuaries they built to 
sleep in till the return of Osiris. 

It was up this broad street of temples, statues, and pal- 
aces that the funeral processions in former days were con- 
ducted, and the dead were carried with kingly pomp to 
tombs that are now invaded by the Arabs of Goornou, 
who work by night for fear of the government. 

Achmet was abroad that night. I thought it was he, 
and he told me next day that I was correct. He had dis- 
covered the entrance to a new tomb, and when his light 
flashed on my eye, he and his companions, ten half-naked 
Arabs, had at length burst in the rocky wall, and the 



AN ANCIENT PRINCE. 343 

magnificent starlight of Thebes shone on the resting-place 
of an ancient prince. ' 

Long ago, longer ago than with our feeble jDowers we 
can count, in the days when Joshua was judging the chil- 
dren of Jacob in the land of Canaan, that tomb was closed 
on the last of the group of sleepers that lay in its gloom. 
He was a prince and priest, and yonder, across the plain, 
stands the great temple within whose walls he had wor- 
shii^ed, and offered incense and sacrifice. One by one he 
had laid in this tomb the beloved dead of his household. 
Men had affections in ancient days as now. Men loved in 
old times as in modern. They looked on fair brows, lost 
themselves in the depths of blue eyes, clasped graceful 
forms to their breasts with all the passionate fondness of 
men in these days. And women were as lovely then as 
now. Who on earth could be more ravishingly beautiful 
than was the wife of Abraham, whom kings adored ? 
Who more divinely fair than Rachel, whose young and 
delicate beauty won the heart of Jacob when it was 
growing cold in years that we think now almost too old 
for human passion ? 

Why, then, may I not imagine that she whom this great 
prince loved was young and A^ery beautiful ? That her 
brow had on it the stately light that I have seen before 
the sun arose on the cold, calm brow of Remeses, and 
that her eye had the liquid beauty and unfathomable 
glory of the sky that was above me that night, in whose 
serene, calm distances the eye of a lover could see Avorlds 
of beauty and starry radiance ? Her form was of the mould 
of the olden time, not long removed from that of Eden. 
There w^ere but a few generations (for generations were 
centuries long) between her and her mother Eve, and she 
had somewhat of the music of paradise in her voice. And 
she too was woman, and was human : woman, for she 
loved him ; human, for she died. Woman, for that her 



344 ALL DEAD. 

heart poured out her overflowing love on him; and 
human, for that with that love w^ent forth her strength, 
and he could not keep her back from the dark road on 
which she went away. 

Yea, she died. There are pictures of such scenes on 
the monuments. With her slender arms w^ound tight 
around his neck, wdth her warm throbbing breasts pressed 
close to his, with her hot lips on his, and her breath thick 
with kisses, she went from him. He laid her young head, 
heavy with golden tresses, on the pillow, and before he 
left her, gazed one instant with unutterable longing on 
the face he should behold no more until those distant 
times when he and she w^ould wake at the voice of Osiris. 
Other hands — for such was the custom — robed her for the 
grave, and wrapped her precious body in the spices and 
jDerfumes that should keep it safe from decay, and he fol- 
lowed her with feeble steps to the tomb, and closed it on 
the light of his life. 

What vigils, outlasting the vigil of the stars, he kept ! 
What long nights of his agony went heavily by as he sat 
and looked toward the hill in which she slept, who can 
tell ? But there came an hour — the hour that comes to 
all men — when there was a darkening of the light, a gath- 
ering of gloom, and then the blackness of darkness, and 
he too was gone into the unknown abodes into which 
Egyptian philosophy had vainly sought to look. If, as they 
sometimes in their varying forms of belief had thought, the 
soul of the dead prince hovered around its late residence 
until it was laid by the beloved dead in the hill, then his 
spirit once more looked into the tomb and beheld the 
dead girl that had been so startlingly beautiful lying in 
the calm and profound repose that resists all the endear- 
ing epithets with which broken-hearted aflection seeks to 
awaken the dust, and then his dust slept beside her. 

The flashing torches that had accompanied his funereal 
pageant lit the recesses of his tomb once more, and the 



STARLIGHT. 345 

rays of Siriiis and the faithful stars penetrated the inner 
gloom once more, and were once more shut out with his 
departing soul as it sought the distant and unknoAvn resi- 
dence of the Osirian shades. And then they fell on the 
sculptured stones before the door, and then on crumbling 
rocks and drifting sand, and when a thousand years had 
been three times told on the circles of heaven, the gray 
rocks of the western hills, in ragged desolation, lay piled 
deep over the silent company that there waited the return 
of the immortals. 

And they came. Imagination may be pardoned thus 
far. AYhen Achmet and his Arab comj^anions tore down 
the last pile of rock, and broke through the wall Avith their 
rude picks and skeleton-like fingers ; when the starlight 
sprang joyously into the gloom, among that group of 
gaunt men were shadowy forms flitting in the varying 
light, and looking with an interest more intense than any 
mere human being could feel in the presence of clay that 
had been living man three thousand years ago. 

They, the Arabs, entered the silent place, and before 
them, in quiet that might have startled a man, but which 
was nothing to the inanimate souls of these poor dogs — 
the quiet of uncounted centuries — lay the dead prince and 
his dead wife, as they had wished to lie until the reunion 
of body to soul. With what emotion they beheld the 
breaking up of that long and calm companionship) 1 dared 
not think. The light of Achmet flashed far out on hill 
and valley, and was extinguished, and then they carried 
them away. What fingers tore the coverings from her 
delicate arms ! What rude hands were around her neck, 
that was once white and beautiful ! What sacrilegious 
wretches wrested the jeweled amulet from its holy place 
between those breasts, once white and heaving full of 
love and life, and bared her limbs to the winds, and cast 
them out on the desert sand ! 

15* 



Our stay at Thebes was to be limitgi only by our in- 
clinations. Dr. Abbott had lent me a tent, which we 
pitched on the shore close by the boat, carried into it our 
deck sofa and the ISTubian mats which Abdul Rahman had 
given us, sj^read our Persian carpets, and over it set the 
American flag by way of notice to all travelers that here 
was a temporary American home. 

Many a pleasant evening Ave had in that tent, and I re- 
call it with chiefest pleasure as the place of meeting with 
my friend Whitely, who subsequently wandered with me 
through Holy Land, along the coasts of Asia Minor, in 
Stamboul and up the Bosphorus to the " Cyanean Symple- 
gades," in Athens and along the bay of Salamis, in Italy 
and through many sunny valleys of Europe, to be forever 
remembered. 

In that tent many beautiful women of many lands sat 
in the starry evenings. In that tent I met frequently a 
young Englishman, an artist traveler, and talked with him 
of art and antiquity, and before I left Thebes I buried him 
in the dust of that ancient plain. 

The memories of that tent on the shore of Luxor are 
varied and pleasant, and its evening histories alone would 
fill a volume. 

Walking down Wall-street a few weeks ago I met just 



T H E F I R S T M O R N I N G . 347 

in front of the Custom House a man whose grasp on my 
arm was as firm as if he had been the sheriff, and I had 
been — no matter who. I looked np in his face and recog- 
nized one of a party that praised Hajji Mohammed's coffee 
many a pleasant evening in the tent, when, tired with the 
long day's labor of sight-seeing or of study, we gathered 
around the bright eyes of Amy and Miriam and reminded 
ourselves of home-scenes in far off countries. 

Mustapha Aga was down early in the morning to 
report progress in the excavations I had directed, and 
after breakfast we crossed the river, commencing our 
strolls among the ancient ruins of Thebes with Medeenet 
Habou. Understand, once for all, that the ruins of what 
is commonly called Thebes lie on both sides of the Nile, 
although we usually distinguish those on the west by 
this name as separate from Luxor and Karnak, which are 
on the east. The broad plain of Egypt, which is here 
more extensive than on any other portion of the banks 
of the Nile above the Delta, was once covered by the 
city, which has come down to us, in tradition and song, 
as one of the most magnificent of the Old World. But 
there remain of it now only a few isolated groups of 
ruins. Of these the greatest by far, and the most mag- 
nificent relic of ancient grandeur on the earth, is Karnak, 
situated on the east bank about a mile from the river. 
Luxor {El Uksorein — the Two Palaces) is also on the 
east bank. 

On the west side of the river, at the southern ex- 
tremity of the plain, lie Medeenet Habou and the group 
of ruins around the temple palace of Remeses. This is 
at the base of the western hills, and three miles from the 
river-bed, but the inundation reaches its very walls. To 
the north of this the two colossi sit on the plain, a little 
nearer to the river than the straight line which would 
connect Medeenet Habou and the Remeseion, or Memno- 



P) 1 8 M K D E E N E T II A n O r . 

iiiiiin. The latter is the next o-reat ruin north of the 
colossi, aiul tlion nothing of importance is tbund nntil 
we reach the temple at Goornou, tliree miles further 
north. All these ruins are at the base of the hills and 
edge of the ]>lain, being at the extreme limit of the iii- 
niulation, and behind and around then\ all are the comit- 
less tombs of the dead of old times. 

A crowd of donkey-boys and men were on the western 
bank awaiting our landing. It reminded one of a Xew 
York steamer landing. "We selected a certain immbcr 
of the small animals for constant use during our stay at 
Thebes, and, mounted on these, crossed the sandy shore 
and the dry bed oi' a branch of the river, ascended the 
true bank, which lies west of this branch, and were on 
the broad level plain over which the colossi, grand and 
majestic, gaze with steadfast eyes. Kiding toward them 
a mile, and then diverging to the let\, we reached 
Medeenet llabou, and entered its ruhis with profound 
awe. Xeither shall I pause here to describe the ruins of 
old Egypt. Human power of description is vain in the 
attempt to convey any idea of the grandeur of these 
colossal ruins, or of the startling ettect produced on the 
visitor, who finds lot\y corridors and columns exposed to 
the winds of centuries, yet gleaming with the brilliant 
colors which were laid on them thousvinds of years ago. 

This temple, or these temples and the palace connected 
with them, are the work of the great Sesostris, as are 
most of the grand relics of ancient Egypt now standing 
in the npper country. In the front portions of the build- 
ings were his private rooms, and these are especially in- 
teresting as aftbrding us an occasional insight into the 
private life of the monarch. Here he was accustomed to 
retire from war, or from the council, and tlie walls aie 
covered with sculptured designs, showing him engaged 
in games, and in the repose of home life. 



LUNCHEON IN THE TEMPLE. 349 

It is interesting to remark him in one jjicture play- 
ing at a game of draughts, nor is this the only instance 
on the monuments where this game is represented. 

Passing into the grand hall of the principal temple we 
sat down in silent admiration and reverence before the 
splendor of that scene. It was a sudden stepping from 
the present into the past, and although it was the dead 
and half-buried past in one respect, yet in others it w^as 
the living ; the mighty days of old even before our eyes, 
and demanding our reverential awe. 

The deeds of the great Remeses were recorded around 
us in sculptures that needed no interpreter. Here he 
pursued his flying enemies, and his shafts carried death 
into their disordered ranks ; there he conquered lions 
that rushed on him from a thicket ; here was a naval 
combat ; there the fiercest fray that was ever known on 
Asiatic fields. Here his chariot went rushing over dead 
and dying; there he carried his captives in triumph 
home, and received from his accountants the tongues 
and hands of the slain as trophies, whose hideous number 
is carv^ed on the wall. 

There was the pedestal of a giant column standing in 
the court, from which the column had been hurled. The 
sun was not far westward, but the lofty architrave hid 
it from us, and in the cool shade we sat around the 
pedestal which Ferrajj had transformed into a table, 
loaded with eatables, where we made a most hearty lunch- 
eon. Two English gentlemen, strangers to us, who were 
rambling through the ruins, accepted our invitation to 
try our claret, and I have often wondered since who they 
were, and whether they remember that luncheon in the 
temple of Remeses the Great. 

I am describing our first visit to this grand ruin only 
because that is first in my notes and my memory. No 
one will suppose that it was our last, or expect me to de- 



350 EVENING IN THE TENT. 

scribe each and every pilgrimage that I made to these 
or other ancient shrines. It was not till the sun was 
setting behind the western liills that we turned our faces 
liomeward. 

The ladies mounted their donkeys and went off over 
the plain toward the colossi at a flying gallop, attended 
by the boys, and half a dozen Arabs who wished to sell 
antiques. The long shadows of the hills were stealing 
across the plain, and we all sat down in the dust before 
the cold face of Memnon and gazed on his gray figure — 
that figure that has been more celebrated in history and 
story than any other antiquity on the earth's surface — 
until the gathering twilight warned us to be away. 

We dined on the boat, and had coffee sent up to us in 
the tent, where we w^erc joined by half a dozen ladies and 
gentlemen from other boats just arrived, Mustapha Aga 
and Sheik Hassan, of Goornou, who came to talk about 
some new excavations to be made, and Mr. Tonge, the 
young English artist, of whom I have spoken, who was 
making sketches at and near Thebes. The scene within 
the tent was brilliant enough for home-land, and Amy 
and Miriam will neither of them be apt to entertain a 
gayer or more picturesque company than sat on their 
Persian carj^ets that evening on the shore at Luxor. 

In my notes of visits to various places of interest 
about Thebes, I shall not attempt to confine myself to the 
order of the days or visits as I made them. I was con- 
stantly among the ruins, now superintending excavations, 
and now visiting places of fiimous name. 

I do not recollect what day it was that we first visited 
the tombs of the Assaseef, which lie on the eastern side 
of the hill, and not very far distant from the ruins of the 
Remeseion. To reach them, it was necessary to go 
across the j^lain, passing the great statue of Memnon, and 



TIIEREMESEION. . 351 

passing also the ruins of the Kemeseion, in which we 
paused on our way. 

We mounted our donkeys at the shore opposite to 
Luxor, and started off in iine spirits, I myself being on 
foot ; for by this time I was able to walk miles without 
fatigue, and to pass an entire day on the tramp without 
having occasion to regret it in the evening. We jjaused 
a moment, as we always did, under the shadow of Mem- 
non, and looked up at his colossal form, while one rushing 
wave of thought rolled over us, as it always must and will 
in presence of that mighty relic of anti(piity, and then we 
passed on to the temple ruins and to the hills beyond. 
We did not go by the temple without the usual mob of 
imtiquity-venders approaching us with their wares, con- 
sisting of every thing, from mummies' heads and feet to 
newly-manufactured scaraba3i, wherewith to entrap the 
green Howajji. But by this time they had gotten to 
knowing us well, and they retired rapidly, except one old 
Coj^t, who had a curious and valuable antique that he 
wished us to buy, but wliich he valued at a price not 
much less than a quarter of what Dr. Abbott asks for his 
entire collection. Again we paused a moment. 

Though we had visited the Remeseion again and again, 
there was a sublimity about its ruins, and, more than 
all, about the fallen statue of the great Sesostris, that 
mighty trunk that lies on the sand in solemn silence 
amidst the broken fragments of his ancient throne and the 
fallen walls of his once glorious temple — a sublimity that 
commanded our respect however often we passed before 
it, and we did homage once more to the presence and 
power of the great past. The high sun looked down with 
awe and subdued splendor on that scene, and there was a 
quiet sereneness with which his rays fell among those 
ruins that I thought very different from the glare on 
the outer desert, or the broad plain of modern Thebes. 



352 TOMBS OF THEBES. 

A solitary vulture sat on the summit of the great pro- 
pylon, and looked on me with sleepy eyes as I sat on 
the sand in silence and gazed on the fallen Osymandyas. 

The beauty and gracefulness of the grand hall of the 
Memnonium or Remeseion j^erhaps surpasses any other 
ruin in Egypt, and one might linger here for weeks, lost 
in admiration and astonishment. But this morning we 
had a day's work before us, and it was necessary to 
press on. So, remounting their donkeys, the ladies rode 
on, and we walked out among the ruins, made more 
ruinous in appearance by recent excavations, and pass- 
ing through the courts, emerged on the hillside behind, 
and struck across the mounds of sand and rock to the 
great tomb which we designed visiting. 

The hills which bound the plain on the west, as I have 
already had occasion to remark, are a honeycomb of 
tombs. From the very edge of the water-level of the 
plain to a point more than a thousand feet high, every 
inch of the rock is occupied by the dead of ancient Egypt, 
or has been occupied until the modern resurrectionists of 
England, France, Germany, or Goornou, broke the slum- 
ber that was to have been eternal. Many of these tombs 
have been opened. Myriads remain undisturbed. Un- 
told treasures lie buried here, and from day to day por- 
tions of them are brought to light by the Arabs, who dig 
in secret, and conceal what they discover nntil a traveler 
presents himself ready to make purchases. But it must 
not be supposed that it is an easy matter to open tombs 
in this hillside. The falling stone of a thousand years, 
and the drifting sands of the desert, have changed the 
form and surface of the ground so much that it may re- 
quire weeks of excavation to reach a burial-place, and the 
searcher may then find that he has but opened a tomb 
that was rifled ten, twenty, or a thousand years before. 
Still a plan pursued by the French and Prussian expedi- 



A VAST TOMB. 353 

tions has been found very successful — namely, to run a 
trench m a straight line for a considerable distance. In 
this way they have opened many curious tombs. For a 
mile the earth is a succession of mounds heaped uj) by 
excavators, and hollows left by them. Up hill and down, 
therefore, the path is tiresome and difficult, to approach 
the tombs of the Assaseef ; but at length winding down 
a hillside into a basin that was dug out by one of the 
great expeditions, we found ourselves in a half-acre hol- 
low, upon the side of which opened a great tomb, one of 
the most wonderful in Egypt. The hollow, as I have 
called it, was, in fact, the court in front of the tomb, and 
at the western side of this the great entrance was visible, 
in the stately style of old Egypt. Through this we could 
see the distant end of the first corridor, beyond which all 
was blackness. The front was carved in the usual style, 
with representations of gods and men, and the immediate 
entrance or doorway was covered with small hierogly- 
phics, beautifully cut in the white stone of the hill, which 
was left for the portico. 

We had provided torches for entering, for although I 
desired as far as possible to avoid adding to the smoke 
which already blackens many of the walls of the formerly 
w^hite or elegantly painted tombs of Thebes, yet I knew 
that this, the greatest of the private tombs, was already 
far beyond injury of that sort. No one knows at what 
period its silence was invaded, or by whose order the 
mighty priest and prince who rested here was disturbed 
in his repose. In the course of years, and even of cen- 
turies, the walls have become blackened throughout its 
extent by torches, and by bats which inhabit it in 
myriads. We could sometimes scarcely advance, so 
thick were the clouds of these animals that dashed in our 
faces and clung to us. 

This vast tomb has been described by so many travel- 



354 DEEP HALLS. 

ers that I shall not pause here to relate our j^rograss 
through its labyrinthine halls. The blackness of darkness 
was reigning everywhere throughout its extent, as it had 
reigned for thousands of years, except when broken, as 
now, for a few moments by the torches of travelers pen- 
etrating with doubtful footsteps the abodes of death. 
That he was a great man who dug this tomb for his bones 
there is abundance of evidence, since his name is found 
on one of the gates of the temple at Medeenct Habou, as 
its erector. But of more than this — his name — we know 
nothing. He was a man, and he built a gateway to a tem- 
ple, and he needed a tomb. He was a mortal, and he 
believed in immortality. After all we know considerable 
of him in knowing that much. It is not every man that 
leaves behind him enough for us to know that much, even 
when he has a blazoned epitaph over his dust. 

But why he built these vast halls, why these crossing 
and recrossing corridors and galleries, which cover an ex- 
cavated space of more than twenty-three thousand surface 
feet, it is left for us to guess. 

We walked on in wondering awe, even after we had 
seen the glory of Abou Simbal. There is one part of this 
tomb w^hich illustrates well the manner of concealment 
adopted in many sepulchres, but which the ingenuity of 
man has readily made vain. 

After passing under ground to the right and left, and 
left and right, through various galleries, descending a 
long flight of steps, and again passing through long dark 
corridors, the traveler, pausing for a moment to glance 
down a deep pit that fills into a grave hewn in the rock 
forty-five feet deep, shrinks back in horror from the fatal 
edge, and turns to the distant entrance, glad to escape 
the dark and foul residence of birds of night and death. 
If he had brought with him a coil of rope, and directed 
his attendants to let him down into that pit, he would 



ACHMET AGAIN. 355 

have descended to the bottom of it, and found it a simple 
tomb, and nothing more. Nevertheless, half way down 
its depth, if he has kept his eyes open as he descended, he 
will have seen a doorway, and swinging himself back so 
that he may on the return catch his foot on the edge, he 
will enter another passage, and then follow on through 
stately chambers and corridors, carved with all the images 
of ancient times and the dark language of the years that 
followed the flood ; and he will ascend by stairs hewn 
through the rock, to a point above the chambers he first 
examined, and so pass on from room to room, till he 
grows weary with the vast extent of this subterranean 
palace for the dead dust of an ancient priest. 

I don't know how long we remained in these halls. 

"When we emerged, the open air appeared beyond de- 
scription beautiful, and we threw ourselves down on the 
sand to enjoy its richness and purity. At length the 
servants, who had spread luncheon in the open doorway 
of a smaller tomb, announced that it was ready, and we 
sat down to our chicken and claret with a zest that no 
one knows any thing about who has not spent two hours 
under ground among bats and mummies. 

"While we were eating, Mr. K asked Trumbull and 

myself if we would go with him to a place not far distant 
and examine a mummy which was in possession of an 
Arab, and which he proposed to purchase. The ladies 
were safe with our servants around them, and we readily 
consented. 

On learning the name of the Arab I was satisfied that 
we should lose nothing by going, for it was my old 
friend Achmet, whom I have several times mentioned, 
and who is an accomplished resurrectionist and a great 
scoundrel. He led us in a very circuitous manner, to 
a point not far distant from the tomb of the Assaseef, 
which we might have reached by a path one half shorter. 



o5G THE WRONG M U M M Y . 

This I saw and remarked to him, but he muttered some- 
thing about an excavation to get round, and I reflected 
on the well-known and very proper anxiety of the dis- 
coverers of treasures to conceal them from the govern- 
ment, but told him that he Avould do better to trust us 
frankly, and not make a fool of himself by attempting to 
deceive us. At length he came to a cavernous opening 
in the hill fronting the north-west, it being around a spur 
of the mountain, hidden from the plain of Thebes. Enter- 
ing this, and passing in a hundred feet or so, we came to 
a sudden break in the floor, and were obliged to descend 
by a jump of about eight feet. Here I. observed that the 
cavern branched, and the other branch led to the vight, 
while we took that to the left, and commenced a diflicult 
passage on our hands and knees, holding our own candles, 
and at length came into a comparatively open space, 
where lay, in solemn silence, the mummy of an ancient 
Egyptian. The case was of a very ordinary kind, painted 
highly, but not so as to indicate great wealth in the de- 
ceased, or great value to the mummy. "We asked Achmet 
where he found it, and he replied, " Here." 

*' In this cavern ?" 

"Yes." 

"You lying dog !" 

On the honor of an Arab it was just here, he j^rotested 
over and over again. 

" But," said R , " this is not the mummy I was to 

buy ?" 

" O yes, it is !" 

" O no, it isn't !" 

" But it certainly is !" 

" Then I won't buy it, and there is an end of it, 
Achmet. You showed me a better mummy than that 
the other day, and if you want me to buy it, show it up 
aoain. 



M 



A DISCOVERY. 357 

Wliile they "were talking, Trumbull and I had ex- 
changed a few words, and were quietly working our way 
a little further along into the cavern. Achmet caught 
sight of us, and began shouting that we were at the end; 
there was nothing there; but if we would come with him 
the other way he would show us the real mummy, the 
Simon Pure. But the more he shouted the more we 
were satisfied there was something to be seen beyond, 
and having climbed a heap of fallen stone, and squeezed 
through an opening between it and the roof of the cav- 
ern, we found ourselves in another chamber, and in the 
presence of three more of the departed Egyptians of 
Pharaonic times. Here was a discovery ! 

" O you fool of an Achmet ! So you never examined 
the cave any further. These are my mummies, old fellow! 
I have found them. You didn't know they were here ? 
Eh, Achmet ?" 

Achmet looked sheepish, and still more so when we 
turned around, and raking down a heap of stone, showed 
the sunlight streaming across the A^alley of Thebes, and 
pushing through the hole in the wall, emerged in the 
scamp's own hut, built on the hillside. He had led us 
this long roundabout way to conceal from us the natural 
and easy access to the cavern, which was, in fact, the cel- 
lar of his house. In case of the presence of suspicious 
characters, either in front or rear, he could readily convey 
his treasures to spots as inaccessible as those in which 
they had lain for ages. 

There was something hideous, and yet quaint and 
strange, in the assembly of the old dead that this Arab 
scamp had gathered. They lay side by side, their coffins 
staring on us with those startling and fixed smiles that 
are always found on the unmeaning faces which the 
Egyptians painted and carved over the countenances of 
their dead, and one was lying partly on his side, with a 



358 JEWELS OF OLD TIME. 

cant toward the other two, that seemed to intimate a 
knowledge of their presence, and a satisfaction at finding 
himself once more in company. 

But we had not yet seen the miunmy that R was 

to purchase, and now coming out of the cavern, and 
going around the end of the hill to the same j^lace at 
which we had before entered it, we followed Achmet 
again to the jumping-oif place ; but instead of going 
down this, he turned into the other passage, and leading 
us by a narrow ledge around the descent, entered a long 
gallery, which brought ns, after much winding and creep- 
ing, to a small chamber, in which Avere two other mum- 
mies, one an elegant one of Ptolemaic times, and the 
other one of those plain, dark mummies of remote ages, 
that looked verily as if it might have been a companion 
of the sons of Jacob. 

" Now," saith my reader, " what under heaven did the 
gentleman want a mummy for ?" 

Yery proper question. But will you step into Dr. Ab- 
bott's museum in New York some day, and look over 
some curious jewelry there. Witness a necklace of gold 
and precious stones, and then let your delighted eye rest 
on a gem of gold and lapis lazuli, representing the flight 
of the soul to the land of Osiris, or some similar idea, and 
then examme the rings and various charms, and trinkets, 
and stones carved into scarabsei, and other quaint shapes ; 
and now imagine a case wherein lies a dead man of old 
time, or a lady of the court of Shishak, or the times of 
Thothmes III., and that upon unrolling the coverings you 
found such a necklace on her neck, such a gem on the 
breast, such rings on the hands, and such charms here 
and there about the person. In the brief phrase of mod- 
ern times, " Would it pay ?" 

I have seen many ladies Avearing the jewelry of thirty 
centuries ago. Indeed there is at present a great passion 



PRIVATE TOMBS. 359 

among the ladies resident or traveling in the East to be- 
come possessed of such treasures, and hence the price at 
which the Arabs sell them is enormous. 

Still, aside from all this, there is a great interest in ex- 
amining the mummy of an ancient Egyptian, independent 
of his ornaments, and it is no waste of time or money to 
open a case and unroll the sleejDer. 

We came out as we had gone in, and returned to the 
Assaseef, where the ladies w^ere seated in the porch of 
the great tomb, waiting patiently for us. 

We had yet a long day's tramp before us ; for we de- 
signed visiting a number of the private tombs which have 
been opened in the side of the mountain, hundreds of 
which are of the utmost interest. 

This is, in fact, the grand source of our knowledge of 
the manners and customs of the ancient Egyptians. In 
burying their dead they were not only accustomed to 
place in the tombs many of the utensils of ordinary life, 
the work-basket of the lady as well as the sword of the 
soldier, but they took care to paint on the walls of the 
tomb all the prominent events in the life of the deceased, 
and oftentimes all the paraphernalia of his daily living. 

On another day we made an examination of one of 
these tombs, that which is now known as No. 35, wdiich 
I may describe as an example. This is one of the most 
interesting of any of the tombs, and were it possible for 
me here to give a reduced copy of the paintings on its 
walls, I should be able, without a word of explanation, to 
describe to the reader a vast portion of the public and 
private manners and customs of the ancient Egyptians. 

The shape of the tombs is almost invariable. The 
outer door opens into a sort of cross hall or chamber 
running to the right and left, while a deep passage or 
chamber penetrates the hill itself. Of course all is dark- 
ness within, and the visitor is compelled to make his ex- 



360 PRIVATE TOMBS. 

animations by candle light. If lie uses torches it is at 
the risk of blackening the wall, and defacing these very 
curious memorials. But this is already almost accom- 
plished. The most of the tombs which are interesting 
have been seized on by the natives as cellars, and their 
mud huts are built in front of them, so that it is some- 
times difficult to obtain admittance. No. 35 is of this 
class, and we found it piled half full of doura (corn- 
stalks), and inhabited by colonies of fleas. lN"evertheless 
we devoted ourselves to its examination carefully. 

One of the most interesting painted groups in Egypt 
occurs on the wall of this tomb, an extract from which 
the reader will remember that I gave in a former chapter 
when writing on the subject of brick-making, and the 
illustration there given will show the style of representa- 
tion in this and other tombs. Conjecture, of course, has 
not been slow to suppose that these men, who are repre- 
sented as making brick under the lash of masters, are the 
children of Jacob. I before remarked on the reasons 
for denying this supposition. But the date of the tomb 
is not far from the period of the captivity, being in the 
reign of Thothmes III., whom we suppose to be the Pha- 
raoh of the Exodus. 

In the first chamber, the transept, is found a procession 
of princes of foreign nations bringing tribute to the king. 
Some are black, some red, some white ; some have long, 
and others short hair. The dresses vary, as does the na- 
ture of their presents. One party bring leoj^ard skins 
and monkeys, ivory, ostrich eggs, gold rings, a giraffe, 
and various other Ethiopian products. A second group 
have an elephant, a bear, a chariot, and long gloves, 
which indicate a more northern residence. Still a third 
and a fourth line of men and women appear with ostrich 
eggs and feathers, gold and silver cups, ebony and ivory, 
bags of jewels, vases of precious metals and porcelain, 



JEWEL FOR THE BREAST, 



8G1 



and a hundred other objects which have long ajQTorded 
subjects of study to the scliolar and antiquarian. 

The inner chamber, which is the long hall I have 
spoken of, contains various subjects illustrating the pri- 
vate life of the proprietor of the tomb, who, from the 
subjects in the outer room, we may conjecture was a per- 
son high in authority under the king. 

Here are represented the daily occurrences of life, and 
all the artisans that he had occasion to employ are here 
pictured iu their various labors. Carpenters at work, 
rope-makers twisting their cords, sculptors busy on a 
sphinx which they are iinishing, as well as two colossal 
statues of the king. 

The minuteness with which scenes in daily life — in the 
house, in the garden, and in the chase — are here rejire- 
sented, enables us to see the life of the Egyptians as if it 
were furnished for the express purpose of illustrating 
volumes on the subject, and indeed the illustrations are 
ample in themselves without the aid of description. The 
same is true of the tombs near this, and of hundreds 
which lie open every where among these hills. 




16 



3if. 

Jl]e £i)i^ee^ of fi]e Se^O. 

Strangers to Egyptian antiquities are surprised at the 
freedom with which scholars speak of the manners and 
customs of the men of three thousand years ago. But a 
visit to Egypt removes all surprise. Old Egypt is still 
here. The tombs opened are a resurrection of the ancient 
times. The paintings are sufficiently minute to exhibit 
life in all its aspects, and the articles discovered in the 
tombs are themselves precisely the articles that did duty 
in the long-gone centuries. 

That some of these antiques are manufactured, is well 
known ; but no one familiar with them can be imposed on. 

I was seated at my table in the cabin of the Phantom^ 
one evening, Trumbull and Amy having gone by moon- 
light to Karnak, and Miriam being on one of the other 
boats making a call. Having a considerable amount of 
writing to do, I had not gone out into the tent as we 
usually did, and the ordinary evening assembly that we 
had there was not gathered. In the afternoon a steamer 
had arrived from Cairo, but instead of landing at Luxor, 
it had stopped two miles below, on the western side of 
the river, and we had no idea who was on board of her. 
I had dispatched Abd-el-Atti, in the evening, to ascertain 
what she was, and was hoping for news from civilization, 
when two gentlemen w^ere announced by Ferrajj, and en- 
tered the cabin. 



UNEXPECTED MEETING. 363 

" We saw an American flag on your boat, this after- 
noon, and judging that we should find fellow-countrymen 
here, have taken the liberty of calling." 

" I am delighted to see you. My name is Prime, and 
I am from New York." 

" Is it possible ? and mine is Righter, from Constanti- 
nople." 

It was no less a surprise to me. He was the oriental 
traveling companion of my brother two years before, and 
had returned to Constantinople, where he now resides ; 
but had come to Egypt, and finding a party made up for 
a swift trip up the Nile on a steamer, he had joined it. 
He knew that I was in the East, but had no idea of find- 
ing me here. His companion was a reverend gentleman 
from Illinois, and the two were as welcome visitors as one 
might hope to receive of a winter night in Egypt. 

Ibrahim, the old Copt, Avhom I have before spoken of 
as the chief manufacturer and vendor oi modern antiques^ 
had repeatedly urged us to visit his laboratory. He had 
long ago become sufficiently well acquainted with me to 
know that I was past hoaxing, and he then became 
confidential, and frankly let me into the secrets of his 
trade. I took this opportunity to accept his invitation, 
and all our j^arty having returned, we made a sally in the 
moonlight to the village and the house of Ibrahim. Pass- 
ing through the narrow and silent streets, we entered a 
dark passage into the mud walls, and going to the rear 
of his house, mounted a crazy flight of steps and entered 
his sanctum. 

It was a queer hole, not unlike the rooms of antiqua- 
rians that I have seen in America. Masses of stuff, broken 
coffin-boards, and mummy-cloths, lay piled in heaps 
around, while on shelves, and tables, and chairs, were the 
relics of ancient Egypt. The old fellow frankly confessed 
that nine-tenths of all that we saw was modern Arab 



364 . STRANGE DISCOVERY. 

manufacture, and the ingenuity of the laborers is deserv- 
ing of all praise. The astonishment of my friends was 
increased fourfold when they recognized numbers of arti- 
cles which, they said, had been offered for sale at the 
steamer that same afternoon, and fac-swiiles of which had 
been purchased at enormous prices by travelers in their 
company. One article, in particular, attracted the atten- 
tion of one of the gentlemen. He had been bargaining 
with an Arab for one precisely like it, and an Englishman 
had bought it before his eyes at the native's price, whereat 
my friend had been decidedly and justly offended. He 
now saw its counterpart lying here, and asked Ibrahim 
if that were modern ? The fellow took out a box and 
showed him a dozen precisely like it. " It's a favorite, 
and sells well," said he. It was a beautiful thing ; and 
when I asked for the original from which the copy was 
made, he produced it from a secret place, and asked me 
ten pounds for it. It was but a piece of stone, four inches 
by five, with a figure in relief on one side. 

By far the most remarkable discovery of the j)ast year 
in this neighborhood has been a sort of undertaker's shop. 
Some Arabs, digging as usual in the night, opened what 
appeared to be a tomb, but on entering it, the contents 
were as astonishing to them as they have since been to 
antiquarians, being neither more nor less than cases con- 
taining some two thousand mummy shawls. The reader 
is, of course, aware that the mummy of an ancient Egyp- 
tian was rolled in long pieces of cloth, of which we find 
from twenty to thirty yards on one mummy, and often 
much more. These strips were cut and torn to suit the 
shape of the body, and were laid on with a skill of band- 
aging which modern surgeons are accustomed to envy. 
When this was complete, the mummy was wrapped in 
shawls of more or less expensive character, the cloth being 
fine linen, sometimes ornamented with beads, Avhile a 



MUMMIES IN WRONG BOXES. 365 

very common form was a shawl made entirely of earthen 
beads strung on thread, and worked in graceful figures. 
Such shawls I found on two mummies which I unrolled 
at different times. 

These shawls were all of linen, varying in fineness, and 
this was evidently a depot or shojD for the sale of them, 
being situated near the great burial-place, and doubtless 
near the mummying establishments ; for the Egyptians 
did not mummy their own dead, but sent them to the 
undertaker's, where they Avere kept for from twenty to 
fifty days, and then returned in the shape of a roll of 
cloth, with head and feet alike enveloped and unrecog- 
nizable. This custom accounts for the fact that we not 
infrequently find the mummies of males in coffins elabor- 
ately ornamented with the hieroglyphical descriptions of 
females, and, vice versa, females in the cases which should 
contain males. It would be very curious if, in the great 
establishments, where hundreds of dead were brought 
weekly for embalming, there were not such mistakes con- 
stantly occurring ; and hence the error of Mr. Gliddon, 
which caused so much amusement in Boston a few years 
since, was not owing to his having mistaken the legends 
on the coffin, nor should it at all detract from his deserved 
reputation as an Egyptian scholar. 

I procured some twenty of these shawls. The one 
which lies before me as I now write is, like the rest, about 
three yards in length by one in width, made of the finest 
linen, with a fringe surrounding it ; and the most curious 
circumstance in connection with it is that each shawl has 
a price-mark on the corner. Incredulous persons, given 
to denying that the objects which we find can possibly be 
antiquities, and asserting the incredibility of the idea that 
these shawls have been lying two thousand years under 
ground, say, on seeing them, " You have been sold ; these 
are modern, and made for the Egyptian antiquarian mar- 



366 MUMMY SHAWLS. 

ket." The same thing I have heard such persons assert 
a hundred times in the collection in New Yoik, on look- 
ing at its wonderful specimens. The only and the com- 
plete answer to such persons is this : "I bought the twenty 
shawls for three piastres each, being about three dollars 
for the whole." A friend of mine, who is a large dealer 
in, and a manufacturer of Irish linens, has examined what 
I have left of the twenty, and informs me that no factory 
in the world could make the articles for less than one dol- 
lar and seventy-five cents each, first cost from the foctory, 
for each shawl, or thiity-five dollars for the lot, which cost 
me three. The Arab, therefore, who attempted to sell 
us made a poor speculation of it. But the character and 
quality of the articles determines their antiquity ; and 
having unrolled some dozens of mummies, and become 
familiar with their clothing, I do not think I could be 
deceived in purchasing mummy cloth by even a Yankee 
speculator. 

The western hills, to which I have so often referred, the 
reader need not be informed are the eastern boundary of 
the great desert of Sahara. They are themselves totally 
destitute of vegetation. Not a blade of grass, not a 
weed, or wild-flower, finds root on their rugged sides or 
summits. They are barren rock, whose crumbling debris 
lies heaped in the hollows, at the foot of their precipitous 
sides, and are the fitting barrier between civilization and 
the wastes of the Libyan plains. 

Irregular in shape, and broken into numerous hills, 
whose height varies from one to three thousand feet, they 
have among them numerous ravines and deej^ gorges, 
whose desolation surpasses the concej^tion of man, and 
far exceeds the power of the pencil. 

One of these enters the hills, at a point not far north 
of Goornou, and penetrates several miles, scarcely ascend- 
uig from the level of the plain of Thebes. The hills on 



KINGLY SLUMBER. 367 

each side of this narrow gorge hang in frowning crags 
above the adventurer who enters its gloomy recesses. 
The sunshine has a sombre, solemn appearance as it falls 
quietly into the silent depths. Here and there a solitary 
vulture sits like a resident demon eyeing the approaching 
stranger ; and he is not surprised when he reaches the 
ends — for it branches into several ravines — to find that" 
the kings of old Egypt selected this gloomy retreat for 
their burial-places, where, in stately halls, dug deep into 
the heart of the mountain, they should sleep in kingly 
slumber. 

I say in kingly slumber ; for, though the dead dust of 
a king was in no respect difierent from the dust of his 
meanest subject, and though his sleep Avas no more or 
less deep and profound, yet it was something to be laid in 
a granite sarcophagus in the centre of a vast hall, and to 
lie surrounded by household servants, guards, and retain- 
ers, all ready to spring to life when one should call whose 
voice should be loud enough to penetrate these deep cav- 
erns. The queens lie elsewhere, in a valley by them- 
selves ; or rather there they did lie, and there are now 
their vacant tombs. 

The tombs of the kings, of which seventeen are now 
known and open to visitors, have long been celebrated as 
among the chief wonders of the ancient world. Many of 
them were open, and had been robbed of their dead two 
thousand years ago ; and the writers of that period have 
given us descriptions that indicate which ones they knew 
and had visited. Others have been discovered in later 
periods, and some quite recently. 

We made an early start in the morning for our first 
visit, and having crossed the river, mounted donkeys at 
the shore, and rode to the temple at Goornou, which we 
examined, and then went on up the valley of the tombs. 
It had been my desire to make an excavation here over 



368 BELZONI'S TOMB. 

a point which I had fixed on in my mind (having never 
yet seen the place), where I was confident of discovering 
an unopened tomb. Sheik Hassan of Goornou accompa- 
nied me for the purpose of taking my orders* on this 
subject ; but the day proved too short for even the cur- 
sory examination I desired to make, and I was obliged 
to put off my excavations to another time. 

Without wearying the reader Avith tiresome descrip- 
tion, I may be pardoned if I devote a brief space to the 
great tomb, No. 17, commonly called Belzoxi's, because 
discovered by him, and No. 11, or Bruce's. 

The descent into this tomb is more rapid and sudden 
than into the others. A long, gradual slope -of some hun- 
dred feet Usually leads the visitor slowly downward. But 
here he descends twenty-four feet by a very abrupt stair- 
case, and finds himself in a passage or gallery, eighteen 
feet in width, down which he j^roceeds between walls 
gorgeously painted and sculptured, until he reaches a 
second staircase, and again descends twenty feet, or 
thereabouts, and continuing onward through two door- 
ways and intermediate halls, enters a chamber in which 
Belzoni found a deep pit, and the apparent end of the 
tomb. This pit was designed to deceive invaders. Bel- 
zoni filled it up and tried the wall beyond it. With a 
palm-tree battering-ram he burst his way through into a 
hall of almost fabulous splendor, and pursued his way to 
a second and almost precisely similar room, down yet 
another staircase, through two passages and a smaller 
chamber into the grand hall, a room about twenty-seven 
feet square, supported by six pillars, in the centre of 
which he found an alabastar sarcophagus. This appeared 
to stand on a solid rock floor, but experiment showed 
that the floor behind the sarcophagus was hollow, and 
when this was broken up, the sarcophagus was standing 
on the summit of an inclined plane, which descended 



BRUCE'S TOMB. 369 

more than a hundred and fifty feet further into the moun- 
tain, with a staircase on each side of it. The crumbUng 
rock filled up its extremity, and how much further it led, 
or what lay beyond, is left to imagination. 

From commencement to end, this great cavern is orna- 
mented with sculjjture and painting, and the remark is 
literally true, which has been so often repeated, that the 
colors have the freshness of yesterday. They appear like 
newly finished and varnished paintings. Of the subjects 
of many of these paintings I have already repeatedly 
spoken in connection with jmvate tombs, while the larg- 
est and most numerous class have reference to the sup- 
posed future history of the soul of the deceased monarch. 
The entire length of this tomb is four hundred and five 
feet, and the descent from the entrance to the lowest 
point is ninety feet. 

The tomb No. 1 1 is known generally as Bruce's tomb, 
and not quite so frequently as the Harper's tomb. 

The first name it received from the fact that the lament- 
ed Bruce, on his return from Egyptian travel, published 
an account of this tomb, and described the splendid paint- 
ings he had seen in it, and was laughed at as an egregious 
liar by the entire literary and scientific world. 

The other name is derived from the painting of the 
'harpers on one of the chambers which Bruce described. 

This tomb is supposed to be that of the third Remeses, 
but other royal names occur in its sculptures. Its length 
is the same as Belzoni's, but the descent is only thirty- 
one feet. The entrance passage is remarkable for a series 
of small chambers opening out on each side of it, which seem 
to have been designed as sepulchres of the royal caterers 
and servants. In the first on the left we find the royal 
kitchen represented on the walls, where men are killing, 
preparing, and cooking meats, kneading bread and going 
through the countless employments of an ancient kitchen. 

16* 



370" A STIFF BREEZE. 

Many of the scenes are very curious. In the room di- 
rectly opposite to this are boats with various shaped 
cabins and sails. The next chamber is covered with 
representations of arms and armor, and the succeeding 
room has elegant chairs, painted and gilded in royal 
style. 

These are among the most beautiful existing evidences 
of the style and splendor of royal furniture in days so 
long gone. Beyond these rooms are others on both sides, 
and in the last on the left are the two harpers, one of 
whom at l<3iast was blind. 

This tomb has afforded us great information on the 
subject of the manners and customs of the ancient Egyp- 
tians, as the reader may gather from the subjects deline- 
ated in these chambers. 

The shades of evening were gathering in the outer 
world while we were still treading these dark passages in 
the mountain ; and we were now warned that if we did 
not hasten, darkness would overtake us long before we 
had extricated ourselves from the gloomy ravine. We 
had several miles to go before reaching the river, and 
having directed our small boat to meet us at Goornou, 
we had still four miles of sailing on the Nile to reach our 
own boat. 

Although we made swift progress toward the shore, it 
was profoundly dark when we reached it ; and here we 
found the boat. It was blowing a fierce gale of wind 
from the northward; and having packed ourselves into 
the boat, and wrapped shawls closely around the ladies, 
we were ready to be away. I was unwilling to trust the 
best Arab boatman with the precious freight we had on 
board. I. took the sheets into my own hands, and she 
sprang away before the desert wind like a bird. 

I never saw a boat fly more swiftly. The little lateen 
sail swayed forward at first, and then held a steady, 



MY FRIEND WHIT ELY. ^'J I 

strong full, and she went over the water as if she knew 
in what haste we were to be at home. 

But it was no common gale. The wind was out in his 
wrath, and the desert storm came down on the river. 
My eyes were blinded with the sharp, swift sand, and 
I could with difficulty see the lights at Luxor, toward 
Avhich we were flying. The current in the river was 
stronger as we approached, and, being against the wind, 
caused a heavy swell, into which the boat plunged wdth 
a will ; but though the foam flew high, we held on to- 
ward the lights, and as we passed the first boat lying at 
the beach, we were greeted with loud shouts, that passed 
along the line of boats as we rounded the point and ran 
up alongside of the Plianto'ni. Every one had been 
alarmed on our account, and a bright look-out was kept 
for our aj^pearanee. 

After we had dined we held a levee in the tent. Hajji 
Mohammed made capital cofiee; and no boat was in our 
neighborhood for a day without finding it out. Every 
evening the tent was full, and coffee and chibouks cir- 
culated till midnight. That evening I well remember 
with especial satisfaction. There were some cards on the 
table when we reached the boat, names, none of which 
we recognized, but which, being American, were received 
most gladly. In the evening, Avhen the tent began to be 
filled with visitors, the canvas was thrown. up, and three 
gentlemen came in, one of whom the reader will hear 
much of if he follow me into Holy Land. 

He was a tall, well-formed man, young, broad-shouldered 
and exceeding stout in his build, who looked like just the 
man to select for a companion in a tussle with Arabs or 
any other evil meaners. I little thought then how many 
miles we should ride together over hill and plain, how 
many nights we should sleep together on the starry plains 
of Holy Land. 



(j3 (p. 

Jfe Sleeps dliell. 

We had been at Luxor for a week or ten days, and 
again we were without company. All the boats which 
had been with us had gone on up the river, and no others 
had arrived ; so that we were lying alone, with the ex- 
ception of a freight-boat which had met with some acci- 
dent, and discharged her cargo on the shore while she 
was repairing. 

The day had been one of hard labor, but I can not now 
say what that labor was. I only remember that Trumbull 
lay at full length on the diwan on the one side of the boat, 
and Amy on the other end of the same, while Miriam and 
myself occupied the other side ; for the diwans were thir- 
teen feet in length, so that there was just room for four 
of us. Derry^ the monkey that Abdul Rahman had given 
us at Derr, Av^hence his name, was sitting on his cage with 
one eye shut, dreaming of new mischief; and I was 
smoking my chibouk in perfect kief; while in the cloud 
of smoke I saw those visions of beloved forms that follow 
the wanderer forever ; and I was hearing those musical 
voices that he hears over mountains and plains, over 
sands and seas, those voices that earth is not broad 
enough to prevent his hearing, heaven not so far away 
from the poorest sinner of us all but that they reach him 
from its radiant homes. 

It was ten o'clock — had there been a clock there to 



CABIN OF THE PHANTOM. 373 

mark it — and all was profoundly silent on river and plain, 
except the melancholy, but sharp quick bark of the 
jackals, seeking their food between Karnak and Luxor. 
The appearance of that cabin is vividly before me now. 
Entering it from the deck, there was a diwan on each side 
and a round table in the centre, while opposite to the 
front door w^as the curtained doorway that led to the 
sleeping-rooms. On each side of this last doorway w^as a 
mirror, and a shelf containing a drawer. Over the diwans 
were the windows, five on each side, and at the right and 
left of the front door Avere glass-covered shelves contain- 
ing the table silver and furniture. Over the windows and 
on the various shelves were placed our arms and ammu- 
nition — four fowling-pieces, three revolvers, and one re- 
peater, ready to be seized and used in an instant, were 
there any occasion for it. The diwans were covered with 
soft cushions, the windows curtained with crimson, and 
similar curtains hung over the fi-ont and rear doorways, 
so that in the evening our room had the appearance of 
perfect comfort and retirement. A more delightful ar- 
rangement could not be made ; and when within such a 
room you place four persons so closely attached to each 
other as we four were, and as familiar with the antiqui- 
ties we were searching out as Trumbull and I had en- 
deavored to make ourselves, you can not doubt that we 
had reason to be satisfied with traveling on the Nile, and 
a fair prospect of enjoying our life so long as the voyage 
should continue. 

But there was a sad interlude to this perfect luxury, 
which for awhile forbade our enjoyment of it. Other 
travelers were not so comfortable as we, and close at 
hand was one who was even then fast passing, in pain and 
agony, into the silent land beyond the deep river. 

Ferrajj's black countenance was visible as he put his 
head in bv the door curtain — 



374 mustapha's house. 

" Mustapha Aga has sent down to say that the English 
gentleman in his house is very sick, an4 he wishes you 
would come up and see him." 

Mustaplia is a nobleman — not by any writ or grant, for 
aga is the lowest title known to oriental society, meaning 
about as much as esquire does in our country — but he de- 
serves rank among the highest, and his position as English 
and American consular agent at Luxor enables him to 
take it — and he is a nobleman of the heart, and a good 
fellow in every sense of the phrase. 

I have before mentioned the visit at our tent of Mr. 
Tonge, the young English artist who was passing the win- 
ter at Luxor. He was about thirty years of age, and one 
of the finest looking men that I have known. His face was 
one of high intellectual appearance, his eye black and 
keen, and quick as starlight. He wore a dark beard and 
mustache curling over a well-shaped mouth, while his thin 
hair was brushed back from a high broad white forehead. 
He was ill when last in the tent, and he had talked some- 
what despondingly of his condition ; but none of us im- 
agined that he was very ill, nor do I think he did so him- 
self. The next day I saw him sketching near the great 
temple of Luxor, or rather he was giving some final 
touches to a water-color drawing of that temple, within 
the ruins of which Mustapha's house was situated. 

Mustapha has the grandest front to his house of any 
man, private or public, in the world. It is not much of a 
house ; something of a pile of mud, but clean and white- 
washed within, consisting of five or six rooms, all on one 
floor, around an open court in which he has some few 
trees and shrubs. But he has selected for the location of 
his house the interior of the grand court of the temple, 
and the doorway is between two of the large columns, 
while the huge architrave towers above it. The contrast 
is somewhat severe on a near approach, but from a little 



MUSTAPHA'S WINE. 375 

distance in front you may see, any fine morning or even- 
ing, Mustapha quietly smoking his chibouk on his front 
steps, surrounded usually by a half dozen of his neighbors 
and friends, and the profound silence, the magnificent 
columns, the curling smoke, and the strange oriental 
dresses make a picture that an artist would love to sketch, 
but which, once painted, a person unused to such scenes 
would pronounce a fanciful mixture, not like any reality 
in the world. 

Mustapha is a Mussulman, but although he drinks no 
wine himself he is amply supplied with abundance, and he 
can give you a bottle of nominal Johannisberg, or spark- 
ling St. Peray, that will go to your heart in old Egypt, 
nor is it impossible that he may furnish you with moun- 
tain dew that will make you able to see Pharaohs with- 
out number on the plain of Luxor that slopes down from 
his grand portico to the water's edge ; for every trav- 
eler Avho touches at Luxor experiences his kindness, and 
he is invaluable in his capacity of American and English 
agent. Some time since he was removed fi-om office by 
the English consul, and his rivals and enemies sent him 
down to Cairo in chains to answer sundry charges, which 
he did successfully. Our excellent consul, Mr. De Leon 
(whom may government long preserve in Egypt for trav- 
elers' sakes), placed him in the same position as American 
agent, and the English consul then restored him. The 
only repayment that can be made for his attention must 
be some small present, since he receives no salary from 
our government, and of course no money from travelers. 
Many a dozen of capital wine finds its way into the cool 
temple of Luxor, and Mustapha, having no use for it him- 
self, opens it for every guest, and of course never suc- 
ceeds in diminishing his stock or its variety. 

Mr. Tonge had arrived at Luxor some weeks previously, 
bringing with him, as is the custom with travelers in the 



376 A DYING ARTIST. 

East, his bedstead, bedding, and ordinary camp furni- 
ture. Mustapha gave him a room in his house large and 
comfortable in all respects, at least as much so as could 
be expected in a rough, mud-brick structure, for it was 
clean and whitewashed, and had one window ten feet 
from the floor with glass in it, and here, surrounded by 
his painting materials, the artist was accustomed to live,, 
and here he was to die. It was a dismal-looking room at 
best in tlie night time, and when Trumbull and I entered, 
it was almost impossible to see across it, so dense was the 
smoke of tobacco from the chibouks of his Arab attend- 
ants, of whom three sat on the floor pufting most reso- 
lutely, and with the utmost stolidity waiting God's will 
in the case of their master. 

He was in so much agony that I do not believe he had 
once thought of their presence. Certainly he had not 
appreciated the closeness of the air and density of the 
smoke. First of all, therefore, we cleared them out and 
threw open the room to the air of night, that soft, rich 
air of Egypt, that glorious air of Thebes the ancient, laden 
with memories as with the odor of flowers, and which now 
stole in across the forehead of the dying artist. 

He was dying. It was vain to look for help on earth ; 
and he, too, as millions before him on that plain, w^as go- 
ing into the presence of older times than those when the 
temple wherein he lay was built — into the presence of the 
Ancient of Days himself The Avanderer w^as nearer home 
than he had supposed, and it was a sudden but a forcible 
thought which his position brought to our minds, that 
after all Ave might not be so far away from home as but 
an hour before we had been dreaming. 

It Avas a strange place for a Christian to die. I had 
read of such scenes, I had written of them Avhen I AATote 
imaginations, but I never thought I should see the life- 
light grow dim in the eye of a fellow-Christian in a dis- 



A DYING ARTIST. S*J7 

taiit land, among the columns of an ancient temple, on 
the very spot where thousands of thousands had wor- 
shiped the gods of Egypt in the long gone years of Egyp- 
tian glory. The dread past and the awful future seemed 
standing before me there. 

It was but little that we could do for him. He did not 
think he was dying. He w^as a man of peculiar sensitive- 
ness, and I have often smiled sadly as I remembered his 
interrupting himself in a fit of severe pain, by suddenly 
apologizing to us for the impossibility of giving us a bet- 
ter reception. So little did he think his case desperate 
that he lit a cigar and insisted on smoking it, hoping to 
obtain some relief to the pain from its sedative effect. 

The night wore on slowly. It was already midnight 
when we were called, and toward morning we left him 
for a little while and returned to the boat. The ladies 
were sleeping, and I threw myself on one couch while 
Trumbull took the other, and we slept profoundly. 

But a messenger called us long before the sun was up, 
and springing to our feet we hastened to the house. The 
cold sky of a winter night at home is not more clear than 
was that sky above the ruins of old Thebes, and the stars 
looked through it with perfect beauty. Passing rapidly 
through the corridor of noble columns, and up the steps 
of Mustapha's house, we entered the room where the sick 
man lay. 

Already there was a terrible change, and it had been 
very swift. But a few moments jn'eviously he had said 
to Mustapha, " I am free from pain," and then said, " I 
am dying," and that Avas the last sound he uttered on 
earth. As I entered he lay on his back, his face calm, 
white, placid, and a smile of content, as if the satisfaction 
of relief from pain, was on his features. He was breath- 
ing calmly, but did not know us, and I sat down at his 
head w^hile Trumbull stood at his side, and w^e waited in 



378 A DYING ARTIST. 

silence the cominj^ of the great change that comes aUke 
in Egyi)t or in England, or our home, that no man can 
escape, flee he never so far to distant lands. 

And the groat snn cnmc up once more on the land of 
the l*haraohs, and as his lirst rays fell across the valley and 
touclied the lips of Meinnon on his ancient throne, our 
friend heard a voice, but it was not the fabled voice of 
Mcmnon, a voice out of the deep that overhangs the land 
of Mennion and old England alike, and he departed in 
obedience to the call. 

No convulsion marked the mighty change which had 
come over him, the Eternal receiving the child of time. 
A sigh, one long deep respiration, the smile that had 
flitted over his countenance rested on it in perfect quiet, 
and he was dead. I leaned over him and laid my hand 
on his forehead. It was warm but ]>ulseless. I pressed 
it on his heart, but it had done with the heavy labor of 
beating the swift hours of existence. I took his hand in 
mine, but the skillful Angers that had grasped the pencil 
but yesterday returned no answering grasp, and so I knew 
that all was over, and he was in the dread assembly of 
the departed. 

80 all was over. The promises of childhood and the 
ho]>es of maturer years, all love, all ambition, all labor, 
anxiety, strite, and care, all wandering travel, all restless- 
ness, every thing that was earthly of him was ended here, 
in this ancient temple, and we alone beheld the end, and 
were left to record it. 

If the studio of a dead artist be a mournful place after 
he is gone, what think you was the aspect of that room 
as we rose from his bed-side and looked in one another's 
faces, and then around us ? Ilis easel stood where he 
had letl it two days previous, and upon it a flnished 
painting of the ruin in which he died. His pencils lay 
where his lingers had dropped them, never to be re- 



KAKNAK. 379 

Slimed; his clothes where he had thrown them in his 
hasty undressing. Plis Arab servants sat at the door 
with knees lifted to their chins, and Ali was weeping bit- 
terly near the feet of his dead master. 

I looked back at the now changing face of the artist, 
and bowed my head in silent, solemn assent to the power 
that had overcome that mighty thing that we call man. 

Then I crossed his arms over his breast in token of the 
hope that alone remains when dust is dust; and walking 
slowly out into the soft sunshine, lay down under the 
great columns and looked toward the western hills and 
the tombs of the ancient Pharaohs. 

There was a gloom in the sunshine of the next morn- 
ing that I can not well describe. It was the same sun-, 
shine, and it shone as quietly and warmly on the valley 
of the Nile as ever before, but for all that it seemed to 
me sombre and mournful. 

We had marked out this day for a visit to Karnak, our 
first visit there. It was, perhaps, more a subject of my. 
thoughts and desires than any other ruin in ICgypt. 
From boyhood I had been accustomed to think and 
dream of these ruins as the chief and most wonderful in 
Egypt or the world. I had read of them a thousand 
times ; had passed hours in gazing on pictures of them ; 
had written descriptions of tliem to read over to myselfj 
and had compared every wonder that I saw or heard of 
with them. 

One of my most distinct recollections of college life 
was that Avhich recalled professor Dod, long since dead, 
as he sat before us reading his eloquent lectures on ar- 
chitecture, and the enthusiasm with which he described 
the stately grandeur of Karnak, and contrasted it with 
the puny works of Greeks and Romans. Aside, therefore, 
from desires for study, my great hope in visiting Egypt 
was to see these stupendous remains, and, in going up 



380 T H E D E A D A R T I S T . 

the river, we had agreed that we did not wish to make a 
hurried visit to them, but would reserve tliem for a first 
cahn, quiet, long day's view. 

Miriam and Amy went off early on donkeys with Trum- 
bull and the Arab attendants. I remained to finish a 
letter, and then walked up to Mustapha's house, and 
entered the room in which poor Tonge was lying. 

Mustapha had agreed to take charge of the arrange- 
ments for the burial. Indeed, he volunteered every 
service imaginable, and behaved as if his brother lay 
dead in his house instead of a roving traveler, unknown 
to him a few days previously. 

The room was little changed. We had closed and 
sealed his trunks and packages, and every thing looked 
as if he were ready to leave on a journey, and was but 
lying on the bed a little while to rest hinself, and would 
start up and be away when the time should come. Alas 
for him, the desert stretched far away to the east and to 
the west, and the strong river flowed swiftly downward 
to the sea; but he would not cross the desert, nor set sail 
on the river. He was already gone on the long journey 
beyond the desert, beyond the dim light of the desert 
sun, beyond the sea to the land where there is no sea. 

I stood alone within the ruins of the great TemjDle of 
Luxor by the body of the young artist, and — nay, I will 
not conceal it, know it who will — there were tears wept 
for him that morning, though his mother was far away, 
and he was buried in the sand long months before her 
ears rang to the terrible story of his death. 

I covered up his face and left him there, stepping 
quietly out into the shadow of the great columns of the 
temple, and thence walked swiftly through the streets of 
the village toward Karnak. 

Outside the village, to the eastward of the great 
avenue of sphinxes that once extended from Luxor to 



DIGGING A GRAVE. 381 

Karnak, is a mound elevated a little above the plain, 
and so far raised that the overflo\v of the Nile can never 
reach it. I am not able to say Avhat that mound covers. 
Whether it be the ruin of a temple, or of an ancient 
house, or of some other structure of olden time, must be 
left to conjecture. It is a desolate spot. No grass grows 
on it ; but the dust of the desert and the plaiu are min- 
gled with broken pottery and stone. No rain falls on it, 
nor water of the Nile reaches it. It stands up a little 
above the surrounding land, so as to be visible from Kar- 
nak and Luxor alike. Upon this mound there is a grave. 
The Arabs said it w^as the grave of an Englishman. Per- 
haps — probably — it was. Here we had directed them to 
dig a grave for our friend ; and before I went to Karnak 
I walked around by this S230t to see that the work was 
properly executed. 

Two fellaheen, naked, gaunt, and bony, sat on the 
mound by their completed work, and demanded buck- 
sheesh for it when I approached. It was an Arab grave, 
five feet long and three deep ; no more. They were as- 
tonished at my dissatisfaction ; and when I gave them a 
stalk of doura seven feet long, and told them to dig it as 
long and as deep as that, their astonishment was un- 
bounded. But they went to work with their pick and 
fingers, and I left them diligently engaged, and walked 
on over the desolate plain, covered with halfeli grass, 
along wdiich formerly extended the most magnificent 
avenue of sculptured stone that the world has ever seen. 

I passed the day at Karnak, and returned as the sun 
was going down. Mustaj^ha had completed his arrange- 
ments strictly in accordance with good taste. He had 
provided a coffin — a rough afiair indeed — but he had con- 
cealed the roughness by tacking over it the blue cotton 
cloth of the country, the only cloth to be procured in the 
village ; and, wdth a feeling that astonished me in a 



382 THE LAST LOOK. 

Molifimmednii, lie l»;i<l triinrncd tlic coffin on tlic edges 
with wliitc tape, and iiaih^l two strips on tlic lid so as to 
form tlio sign wliereby we are accustomed to signify our 
fliitli in tlic Saviour. 

Once more 1 looked in his face. Mine were the last 
eyes that should look on those features until the far-off 
morning, and I alone of all the earth was to preserve the 
inemory of that marble countenance, so that if in my fu- 
ture wanderings there should by chance be any one — 
mother or brother, sister, or better loved than all, who 
should demand of me liow he looked when the light was 
forever shut away from his white brow, I could answer. 
At that moment there went a swift thought homeward. 
T thought if I were he ; if that pale forehead were mine ; 
if that dark mustache and heavy beard Avere luine; if 
that closed eyelid were this one, and that hushed lip this 
lip, what sad lament would there be in my far home, 
what grief to my old father, what heart-breaking agony 
to my beloved mother, Avhen some one should come in 
on them, in their home among the trees, and tell them 
"lie is dead !" 

I looked wistfully — how wistfully ! — into that face and 
asked yet again and again, " Is that all ?" Strange in- 
consistency, it seemed, that yesterday I thought nothing 
of that man, and now death has been here and his dust 
demands reverence as never living dust demands it, even 
though it be the crowiunl brow of an emperor. Yester- 
day I might have forgotten him — now he is an immortal, 
and I shall remember him forever. 

lie Avas a man of like passions with myself lie lived, 
labored, sinned, and suifered as do I. But this is not he. 
There is no sin here. This is a pure, sinless body. Wliat 
Avas his faith I do not know, nor whether he believed in 
God or Savi<^ur ; but this much 1 knoAV, that he is gone, 
and this that lies beibre me is the imai^e in Avhich (iod 



THE FUNERAL PR0CE8ST0N. 3B3 

made man, and death has sanctified it ))y his holy touch, 
and somewhere, on this sorrowful eartli, there are those 
who would give years of life to stand Avhere I stand now 
and look once, but one instant, on those calm features and 
that holy clay. And is this all ? 

Yes, that was all ! A brief day — a brilliant morning, 
and a sudden darkness. That was all ? He had lived his 
life through swiftly and passed to the presence of the 
mighty dead. A voice out of the deep — I know not 
Avhether it was the voice of one loved on earth and gone 
onward long ago, or but the deep voice that all men 
hear — a voice had called him, and he had heard it and 
was gone. 

The old Coptic bishop stood a little way oif as T cov- 
ered up his face, and caught my gaze as I lifted my dim 
eyes from that last sad look. He was a venerable looking 
man, large and commanding in appearance, the represen- 
tative perhaps of as pure a line of apostolical succession as 
the world can furnish. But he was not a worthy succes- 
sor of Mark. He came, not for respect to the dead, but 
for bucksheesh from the living ; and I think his Christian 
sympathies were not strongly excited toward the Ameri- 
can branch of the church by the manner in which we 
treated his demand. 

Four American gentlemen, travelers upward bound, 
stopping at Luxor for a day, arrived at this moment, and 
we proceeded to carry him out for burial. It was a 8im;^Ie 
procession. Six Arabs lifted the coffin, and seven Christ- 
ians followed them. The unsatisfied Coj^tic functionary 
fell in behind us, and a straggling crowd of two or three 
hundred Arabs came on, respectfully and in silence. We 
passed through the village streets and out by the market- 
place, and down the hollow, and up to the ready grave. 
It was not very much like home, O L'fntle reader of these 
lines, Avho prayest every night that God will let you die 



384 THE FUNERAL. 

and be buried with the beloved of old times. It was not 
like that quiet church-yard in the up country — that holy 
spot where, with feeble footsteps and quick floods of tears, 
Ave laid her darling head in all its young beauty below 
the myrtle and the violets. As I walked that sad dist- 
ance, I bethought me of all that. The cofiin on the table 
under the pulpit ; the old clergyman leaning over it, and 
weeping bitterly for her he too loved beyond words to 
tell ; the broken words of faith and hope that fell from 
his lips at length, and the deep sob that would not be re- 
strained from her — the gentle friend of the dead girl — 
who sat in the choir and strove once more to sing, but 
could not, though the song was one of triumpli ; the lift- 
ing of the cofiin and the heavy tread as they carried it 
down the aisle, and out to the corner under the elm-tree, 
and the soft sunshine falling through the branches into 
the grave as if to hallow it for her whose life had been 
one long sunshine on our lives, gone out indeed in black 
and sudden night ; the reverential pause, the deep and 
solemn silence as the dust was let down slowly to its 
kindred, and the low wail of agony that God heard on 
his great white throne and answered with the words of 
everlasting life — all these were before me now. 

The sun was on the horizon's edge as w^e approached 
the grave and for a moment set down our burden on the 
surface of the ground. Karnak, in majestic glory, was 
before us. Luxor looked down on the scene, while, far 
ofl" across the ruin and the plain, Memnon of the stony 
eyes gazed on the group as he had gazed in thousands of 
years on burial-scenes from the j^ageant that followed 
Amunoph himself to this. 

The natives crowded around. Children, naked and 
filthy, crawled on hands and feet between the legs of the 
older spectators and surrounded the edge of the grave, 
gazing curiously into its depths, while one naked young 



"REQUIEM ETERNAM." 



385 



Arab, bolder than the rest, forced his head between my 
ankles and lay iiat on the ground, content with the view 
that he thus obtained of this mysterious rite. 

We read certain passages from the burial service, lifted 
our hats reverently from our heads, and then laid him in 
the grave ; and with our own hands and feet, for shovels 
are unknown in Egypt, we threw in the earth, and so 
buried him in the dust of that old land where God will 
find him when he calls the Pharaohs and their followers 
to meet him in the awakening. 

Nearly a year after the occurrence of these events, it 
was my melancholy pleasure to meet in England the 
friends of the* unfortunate Mr. Tonge, whose fate I have 
described, and to communicate to them the particulars 
of his death and burial. A rude brick monument, which 
we caused to be erected over his grave, will preserve its 
locality till this generation and all who knew and loved 
him are themselves epitaphed. 




1 1 



36. 



J he Kloi^ij of I^^l^o^li. 

There are some jDlaces on the face 
of this old earth where antiquity- 
sits throned and crowned, compel- 
Hng homage to its old but radiant 
splendor. Such a spot is the Par- 
thenon, where the ancient is beauti- 
ful and glorious, and the modern 
traveler bows in delighted adoration 
to the splendor of tliat beauty and 
glory. 

There are other places where an- 
tiquity is crowned with roses, and 
claims in the hearts of men a kin- 
dred spirit of joy and joviality ; 
where we seize the old by the hand, 
clasp it in our arms, treat it as of the 
same blood and passion with our- 
selves, and draw down the regal dignity of age to the 
level of our own humanity. Such a place is the house of 
the tragic poet at Pompeii, such the vast halls of Caracal- 
la's baths in a sunny day at Rome. 

There are places where the ancient wears a brow of 
serene dignity, and is crowned with gray and reverend 
locks. Such places are awe-full. Such is the summit 




EXTENT OF KARNAK. &87 

of Cheops, such the shrine at Abou Simbal, such pre- 
eminently the grand hall at Karnak. 

Beyond a question this ruin is the most stupendous 
relic of antiquity, the most grand achievement of human 
art, ancient or modern, that the world has seen. 

Karnak is a greater wonder than the pyramids. The 
heaping of stone together in such a mass was, indeed, a 
kingly idea of Cheops; but here was the same royal 
thought, the same masses of rock, hewn into graceful 
forms and shapes, that indicated taste and design, and 
grouped in a temple, or in temples, that surpassed the 
pyramids in extent. I have no doubt there is more stone 
in the ruins of Karnak than in the pyramid of Cheops. 
The size of many of the stones is greater than of any in 
the pyramids, and the work of elevating them to the tops 
of lofty columns, and arranging them in the form of the 
architraves of this temple, was certainly much more dif- 
ficult and laborious than any of the labor in erecting the 
tombs of Cheops and Cephrenes. 

The reader can with difficulty obtain an idea of the ex- 
tent of these temples, which, connecting one with another, 
form the ruins which we call Karnak ; nor shall I pause 
here to weary him with statistical information about them. 
Enough, however, to say that the immediately connected 
ruins extend for a space of three fourths of a mile, by half 
a mile, on which lie heaps of stone, fallen columns, obelisks, 
and towers ; while here and there portions of the ancient 
buildings stand high up in their original grandeur and 
perfection, defying the power of time. The buildings 
which we may call the chief temple are about 1200 feet in 
length, by 'S30 in breadth. 

It was not storm nor decay that overthrew the temples 
of Egypt. Time had no more power over them than he 
had over the stars above them. The last mark of the 
chisel which the sculptor left on the stone remains as it 



388 IMMORTALITY. 

was left, and the pencil-lines drawn to direct his future 
work are uneffaced, and literally as fresh as the moment 
after they were drawn. 

This is a fact which every person who has examined 
Koum Ombos can verify, where, on the portico of the 
temple, exposed to every wind that blows over the lofty 
hill on whose summit the temple stands, remain the out- 
line sketches, in red and brown, made by the sculptor to 
direct his chisel, and the last touches of the chisel among 
them, as if he had but yesterday laid down his mallet and 
would to-morrow resume it. And this among fallen col- 
umns and the scattered ruins of the temple. 

What, then, worked the ruin? It was not earth- 
quake; for those parts which earthquakes could never 
have shaken are scattered over the plain. What shattered 
the colossal statue of Osymandyas and broke his granite 
throne ? 

The answer is with God. Conjecture vainly seeks to 
account for the ruin. Probably the conquering armies 
of invading nations wasted their energies in the vain at- 
tempt to efface the memory of the conquered. 

I am more than ever impressed with the conviction 
that the ancient Egyptians built temples for immortality. 
That they expected in their own proper persons to return 
to these plains, to worship at these altars, possibly with 
the visible presence of their gods. 

For this they sought tombs in the solid mountains, 
whence they could walk out in later days and view the 
redemption of the land of Misraim ; for this they em- 
balmed their dead, that in the resurrection they might 
know each other, and souls might not wander in deep 
darkness seeking in vain a clay tenement. From this 
arose the fable of the ghosts wandering on the banks of 
the river Styx, and it is worthy of remark that to this 
day, under Mohammedan teaching, the Egyptian hurries 



APPROACH TO KARNAK. 389 

his dead into the grave, believing that the angels who arc 
to question them for admission to heaven will not ap- 
proach them till the grave is closed over them. For this 
resurrection they piled these grand temples. An artist 
friend of mine one day proposed to fill the background 
of a picture with a broken column of Egyptian style. 

*' My friend, it will not do — there is no such thing in 
Egypt as a broken column." 

" No columns in Egypt ?" 

" Yes, there are hundreds, but I never saw one broken 
— they are either erect or prostrate, never broken. They 
are too grand to be broken. No earthquake could break 
one though it might hurl it from its pedestal." 

This remark applies, of course, only to monolithic 
columns. Those which are built of separate layers are 
often scattered in fragments. 

Approaching the great front from the river (not as we 
came from Luxor, which is south of Karnak, but entering 
from the west), we have before us the two propylon tow- 
ers, whose vast size and height surpass all others in Egypt. 
Long before reaching the gateway between them, we are 
passing through an avenue of sphinxes, or crio-sphinxes, 
as Wilkinson calls them, but in fact rams of colossal size, 
facing the worshiper on each side as he approaches the 
temple. Passing through the pylon or gateway, we enter 
a court two hundred and seventy-five by three hundred 
and thirty feet, with a corridor on each side of it, and the 
remains of a double row of columns through the centre, 
one only of which is standing. On the opposite side of 
this court stand two other lofty and grand propylon tow- 
ers, passing through which, we enter the great hall of 
columns. This hall is three hundred and twenty-nine 
feet in breadth by a hundred and seventy in length. 
When complete, it consisted of a central aisle, which 
was higher than the naves or the remainder of the room, 



390 VAST NESS OF RUINS. 

being supported by two rows of columns, six in each row ; 
one hundred and twenty-two other cohnnns supported 
the rest of this vast hall, of which I counted one hundred 
and two now standing, and the others lay prostrate. The 
twelve central columns are standing. 

These central columns are each sixty-six feet in height, 
without counting the base and capital. Including these, 
they are ninety feet high. The diameter of each is 
twelve feet. I beg the reader to mark out these figures 
on the ground, describing a circle of twelve feet diam- 
eter, and endeavor thereby to get some idea of the size 
of these columns. 

The other hundred and two columns are each forty-one 
feet nine inches in height (pedestal and capital not in- 
cluded), and nine feet one inch in diameter. No other 
spot on earth realizes so perfectly the idea of a forest of 
columns. 

Without pausing now to express our wonder and awe 
in this vast hall, we pass out of it between two lofty tow- 
ers, as before, into another court, now a heap of stone, in 
which stands an obelisk of granite, its mate lying broken 
to pieces near it. Again we pass between two towers, 
not so large as the others, and now lying in ruins, and 
enter another court, in which stands the great obelisk, 
ninety-two feet high and eight feet square at its base, 
while its companion Hes in broken masses by its side. 

Already, I am aware, that I shall lose my reader for a 
companion if I attempt to lead him any further through 
these vast buildings, and yet we have not approached the 
sanctuary in which the gods sat of old to receive homage 
and sacrifice. 

Other towers, another, court, another court, a granite 
gateway, and another broad area lead to the holy place, 
and beyond it the buildings stretch to the eastward even 
further than to the west, whence we have come. All 



SHISHAK. 391 

these vast courts and areas, obelisks, towers, and halls, 
are or were surrounded with columns, sphinxes, and stat- 
ues, and every column and stone is covered with carving, 
and brilliantly painted. Not only was the temple colos- 
sal in its proportions, but it was gorgeous beyond all de- 
scription in its furniture and adornments. 

Of its age I hesitate to speak, since it is a subject on 
which Egyptiologists have diifered widely ; but there can 
be no doubt that the more ancient parts, those eastward 
of the sanctuary, were built prior to the arrival of Jacob 
and his family in Egypt, while the grand hall was erected 
at a later time. Some portions of this vast temple, doubt- 
less, stood in the days of Abraham, and it is not impossi- 
ble that the traditions of the Arabs may be correct, and 
that Noah himself may have stood within its walls. Cer- 
tainly it was but a brief time after the deluge that the 
foundations were laid. Of the monarchs who erected the 
different parts it is not difficult to speak, smce their names 
are blazoned on every stone laid by their orders. But of 
the period in the world's history when these monarchs 
lived and reigned it is more difficult, indeed next to im- 
possible, to affirm. 

There is, however, one portion of the temple which 
possesses a more profound interest to the Christian trav- 
eler. 

On the outside of the south wall of the grand hall is a 
representation of a god, leading many captives to a king, 
who is seated to receive them. 

The cartouche gives the name of the king — Sheshonk, 
or Shishak, who is mentioned in 1st Kings, chap. 14, 25 ; 
and 2d Chronicles, chap. 12. 

This cartouche is well known. It appears on a very in- 
teresting piece of scale armor in the New York collection, 
of which a fac simile is given at the end of this chapter. 

The name of Shishak would be of great interest in 



392 CHAMPOLLION. 

itself, but in this instance is of a thousandfold more in- 
tense interest from the names of the captives that are 
before him, each of whom is represented, as in the vig- 
nette at the head of this chapter, vi^hich is the most re- 
markable of them all. The characters in this peculiar 
figure, the battlemented outline of which represents a 
fortified city, are Aiudah Melk Kah, and the whole sigu 
translated, signifies " The fortified country of the king of 
the Jews." 

The discovery of this record of Scripture history on 
Egyptian stone is one of the most interesting in Egypti- 
ology. 

Fears had been entertained and expressed that there 
would not be sufficient confirmation of Scripture found in 
Egyptian sculpture, and those who but half believed their 
Bibles were afraid of the monuments — a strange fear that 
is found in the history of every progressive science. He 
whose faith in revelation is firm, always springs with de- 
light to the investigation of new fields, knowing (not 
hoping) that he will find full confirmation and new assist- 
ance to his faith and understanding. Before ChampoUion 
visited Egypt this sculptured group had been often looked 
at with curious eyes, but no one had for a moment imag- 
ined its significance, or value in a historical view. The 
king's name was, indeed, known as Sheshonk, Shishak, as 
our translation of the Old Testament has it ; but although 
a hundred scholars had seen the rows of captives, no one 
of them had read here any thing by which to connect 
this with the Scripture history. ChampoUion landed at 
Karnak on his way to Upper Egypt, and remained an 
hour or two in the vast halls that are the wonder of mod- 
ern wanderers. But his keen eye was not idle, and as he 
passed this group, reading name by name in it silently, 
he started, astonished at the blindness of his friends who 
were before him, and read aloud to them the name Melek 



KING OF THE JEWS. 393 

AiUDAH, or the King of Judah. The oval in which it 
was inclosed represents a fortified place, and the sign at 
the bottom of those within the oval represents a coun- 
try. It was like a voice out of the ancient ages, that 
sound among the ruins of Karnak, as the great scholar 
read the story of the son of Solomon on the wall of his 
conqueror's temple. It was the greatest, as it was almost 
the first of the new discoveries, and a tribute to the truth 
of God's revelation that at once consecrated and sealed 
the truth of the scholar's investigations and their results. 
That wall at Karnak is the most interesting spot among 
the fallen temples of the land of the Pharaohs. While 
other records have been efiTaced, that one seems to have 
been kept expressly that the world might discover it, and, 
this done, it is crumbling. 

I observed that the corner of the stone is badly broken, 
and the next name, which was perfect in Champollion's 
time, is now completely efiaced. This will soon follow. 
But hundreds of travelers have seen it, and copies of it 
are placed on record forever, so that future ages can not 
doubt that, in the nineteenth century after Christ, Cbam- 
pollion read on the walls of Karnak, among the captured 
countries of Shishak, the name of the kingdom of Solo- 
mon, and the name that was hallowed to all eternity 
afterward when Pilate nailed it to the cross of the last 
and greatest King of the Jews. 

There are several temples near the great temple, and 
many magnificent structures, gateways, lofty towers, and 
the most stately obeUsks in Egypt scattered here and 
there in this vast burial-place of temples, for I know of 
no other title so fitting as this. The huge mounds are 
like monster graves, and there are old shrines under 
them. There are hundreds, I beUeve I may say thousands 
of sphinxes, colossal rams, dog-headed gods, and statues 
large and small, scattered over a square mile of ground. 

17* 



394 KARNAK BY MOONLIGHT. 

There are two sacred ponds, one of which has been the 
scene of Mohammed All's sacrilege. He broke up a vast 
amount of the stone and threw it into the lake, that the 
water might dissolve the nitre with which the stone was 
impregnated, and afterward he evaporated the water and 
gathered the nitre for his gunpowder works near by. 
Thus much old sculpture was destroyed. 

I visited Karnak at all hours of the day and all days. One 
Sunday I passed the entire day sitting in the grand hall 
and endeavoring to people it with its long dead worship- 
ers. Mohammed Hassan, my faithful sailor, was with me 
and sat for hours as silent as I. I believe that the aw- 
fulness of the place had impressed him as well, for he 
would sometimes turn his large eyes toward me with a 
look that I could interpret as nothing else but an implor- 
ing anxiety to be told who were the builders of this 
gigantic ediiice. I told him as well as I was able, but he 
could not appreciate that it was of thousands of years 
ago. To him a century was greater than his mind could 
grasp — what then the years of this house, or the eternity 
of which its builders dreamed ? 

I was often there by moonlight. Certainly there is no 
spot of earth that the moon so magniiies. I had been 
one day shooting over the })lain till sunset, and went 
around by Karnak in the twilight, climbed the great tower 
of the western gateway of the grand hall, and sat down 
on its top to await the coming of moonlight. The weird 
quaint startling lights and shadows of the twilight deep- 
eninof into the silver shine of a moon almost full, were 
exceedingly beautiful. I lingered with eyes fixed on the 
tall obelisks that pointed their taper lingers to the inac- 
cessible God beyond the sky of Eg}^t fav up above its 
massive structures, and wondered how many myriad eyes 
had gone upward like mine from that granite pedestal, 
up, up to the everlasting stars. 



THAT LONELY GRAVE. 395 

Though it was a false worship, it was nevertheless a 
spot like that where Jacob slept, for above that shaft 
directing eyes to heaven, in ancient days had been the 
ladder that angels trod ; for thoughts are angels, messen- 
gers of men if not of God, and right there away more 
thoughts had traveled to the unknown abode of the 
Almighty perhaps than at any other point in mid air 
between earth and heaven. 

As I walked liome that night I turned out of my way 
to visit the grave of my poor friend. Two jackals sat on 
it. I would have shot them, but I could not so disturb 
the holy night that rested on that heap of earth — the last 
resting-place of the dead artist. How but last week he 
would have loved that silver light of Egypt that now 
blessed his grave! I sat down one moment on the 
mound. 

O friend of mine ! there is a grave-yard in which the 
moonlight falls to-night with white radiance on mounds 
of snow. In a summer evening such as that, I have been 
accustomed to go to that quiet spot with those well- 
beloved, and sitting down on the broad tablet that honors 
the memory of a man of God who now stands before his 
throne, talk of the village dead that lie around him in 
peaceful sleep, calm as the moonlight that falls through 
the branches of the willow on the grave of his daughter, 
the fairest child of the valley village. There, could I but 
uncover their faces as they were when laid in their rest- 
ing-places, I have loved to think of the smiling coun- 
tenances, the peaceful lips, the closed eyes, of man and 
maiden, father and daughter, I should see, who, a goodly 
company of happy people, will wait, in dust of which they 
are content to be a part, the voice of Him of Bethany. 

Not so the moonlight grave-yard scene that night. The 
gray walls of Karnak and of Luxor stood up against the 
sky. A grove of palms close by the mound, cast a deep 



396 



SCALE ARMOR OF SHISHAK. 



shade almost up to it. No grass, no shrub, no flowers 
grew there, but the moonlight was as pure on the dust of 
the Nile valley as among the violets of home highlands, 
and the dead slept as deeply, as profoundly. 

When I remember that mound outside the walls of 
Luxor, in the dark nights while I sit here in America, no 
longer near it to watch over him I laid there, when I 
think of the loneseme nights of summer when the hot 
sun has been there all day long and the jackals wail 
there all night, no travelers for months to look at the 
mound, and he lying there — to-night — alone, I shudder 
and pray God I may die among my kindred. 




3T. 




^ When we were at Esne, Suleiman 
Pasha, the governor of the section from 
Es Souan to Luxor, had proposed to us 
to amuse ourselves during one day of 
our stay at Luxor by an exhibition of 
the performances of horses. In fact, to 
get up what the natives call a Jereed 
play, in which the Arabs should display their horseman- 
ship for our especial edification. He accordingly wrote 
letters to the nazir, Islamin Bey, whose dominion is in- 
ferior to his, and whose usual residence is at Luxor, as 
also to old Houssein Kasheef, the local governor at Lux- 
or, directing them, on our demand, to summon all the 
Arabs in their dominions who were possessed of horses 
worth showing in such a performance. 

We had little desire to see the exhibition, but Abd- 
el-Atti was anxious to have it done, and we allowed him, 
in our names, to present the letters, and fix a day for the 
Jereed. The day came, and seventeen horses and horse- 
men appeared. This was a failure. We wanted seventy 
at the least. Nor was it pleasant, for we had given up a 
day to it, and other travelers had done the same, on our 
suggestion. 

Abd-el-Atti was in a rage. The nazir was at Goos, 
some thirty miles distant, but the letter had been sent to 



398 JEREED PLAY. 

him, and ho had paid no attention to it. lie was, in fact, 
the only surly specimen of a Turk that we met with in 
Egypt, and he will not bo ai)t to forget us, having leisure 
now to think of us. lloussein Kasheef was absent at Ksne, 
and in no way to blame for the failure, but the nazir had 
the entire responsibility of it on his shoulders. 

Abd-el-Atti proceeded, in the fashion of the East, to 
take the testimony in the case, and I observed him for 
three days sitting all day long, or always when I was at 
home, near the tent, with a crowd around him, taking the 
evidence that the na//ir had refused to obey the letter, 
and had neglected to honor the firman of Ins highness, 
the viceroy, of Avhich I had the honor to be the bearer. 
All this produced a sensation in the neighborhood, and 
on the arrival of lloussehi Kasheef he sent for Sheik Ab- 
dallah, the sheik of Karnak, and between them they ai*- 
rano;ed the atl'air, and sent down to lis to be<x ns to fix 
another day. Accordingly Ave named another day, and 
on the morning thereof we saw a very ditlerent looking 
place when we returned from an early canter to Karnak. 
The broad space which lies between the temple and the 
river's edge, and which contains some ten acres, more or 
less, of dry dusty soil, was covered by Arab liorsemen in 
gay dresses, and the scene was altogether one of the most 
lively and inspiriting that could well be imagined, llous- 
sein Kasheef and Sheik Abdallah had done their utmost, 
and every village and camp within twenty miles had 
turned out its finest horsemen and best horses. 

The Jereed i)lay has been an ancient amusement in 
eastern countries, having some resemblance to the tourna- 
ment of the middle ages. The liorsemen who formerly 
rodo with tilting lances, and sometimes fought with them 
even to the death, adopted a less dangerous weapon, and 
were accustomed in these tournays to use the long, slen- 
der, and graceful branch or leaf stem of the date palm- 



A SPIRITED SCENE. 399 

tree. But this was not a harmless toy thrown from the 
hands of a strong and skillful man ; so that the govern- 
ment, finding that private malice not infrequently took 
advantage of the public games to inflict terrible wounds, 
forbade the Jerced, as it was called, and the riders were 
left to use such light and harmless weapons as they could 
procure, if they desired to continue their sport. An ex- 
cellent substitute was found in the long and light stalks 
of the Indian corn, which grow to a very great height in 
Egypt, and which furnish a lance, or the imitation of a 
lance, ten feet in length. Each horseman carries half a 
dozen, as the Arab horsemen were at one time accustomed 
to carry lances or darts. 

Over a hundred horses were gathered on the plain of 
Luxor. How they rode, how one would dash out from 
the ranks, and fly like the wind across the plain, throw 
liis steed on his haunches, while he shook his lance in the 
air, then leap forward with a shout, and return to the 
ranks with his burnoose streaming in the wind ; how a 
dozen, with flying garments and wild cries, would follow, 
and a dozen more give chase, and advance, retreat, fly 
and pursue, mimic the battle-scene, the attack, the fierce 
thrust, the parry, the steady backward retreat when hard 
pressed, leap by leap, the gallant horse and rider facing 
steadily the three-fold force of the enemy ; how they 
divided their ranks, and placing half on each side of the 
plain, under old leaders, advanced at a fierce gallop, and 
met in the centre before us, with hundreds of lances fly- 
ing through the dusty air, and shouts as if the conquered 
of the Battle of the Pyramids were all there ; how they 
wheeled and advanced, retreated and plunged forward, 
until the fray became a confused mass and the dust cov- 
ered them, and then out of the cloud 

" Fast, fast, with wild heels spuming, 
The dark gray charger fled," 



400 GHAWAZEE. 

and Sheik Hassan, of Goornou, lay rolling on the plain ; 
how when the fray became thickest, and the shouts most 
furious, and we heard some sounds which seemed to indi- 
cate that there was a growing seriousness in the fun that 
might result unpleasantly, and Iloussein Kasheef rushed 
down the slope on foot and vanished in the melee ; how 
at this instant there came a storm of wind, a whirling 
blast from its desert home, tempted, doubtless, by the 
combat on the plain, and gathering \i^ the dust, now 
beaten to powder by the horses' hoofs, swept over all in 
the grandeur of a sand-storm, and drove horsemen, and 
horses, and Howajji ingloriously from the field ; all this, 
alas, there was no troubadour to sing, and posterity must 
remain ignorant of. 

In the evening after the Jeered performance, several of 
the Ghawazee came down to the boat hoping to induce 
us to engage their services for an exhibition, which we 
had hitherto refused to do, and still continued to refuse. 

The Ghawazee have been celebrated by Egyptian trav- 
elers in numberless chapters; and there is scarcely a book 
on Egypt which does not contain more or less poetry on 
their beauty and gracefulness. Most writers follow a 
tradition, founded on a decree of Mohammed Ali, and 
locate the Ghawazee at Esne ; but this, like their beauty 
and their grace, is very much in the imagination of the 
traveler ; for though banished to Esne when they became 
too plenty in Cairo, they were allowed to consider Esne 
as reaching from Cairo to the first cataract, and they are 
to be found every where between the two places, and 
chiefly at Luxor. Some of them retain traces of the tra- 
ditional beauty of their race ; but by far the most of 
them are miserable drabs, and hopelessly degraded. 

The two girls who came down to the boat were fair 
specimens of the class ; one of them held a species of 
banjo or guitar in her lap, on which she beat a sort of 



A LADDER. 401 

tune, while the other danced slowly, and with some de- 
gree of skill, to the measure. Their taste in dress was far 
above the ordinary run of women in Egypt ; for the na- 
tives of the lower classes, as I have already stated, wear 
but a single long, loose garment, while these girls were 
loaded with the usual full dress of the lady of the hareem. 

But receiving neither bucksheesh nor prospect of en- 
gagement for a dance on deck, or in the room of the old 
house where they had performed the evening previous for 
a European nobleman and lady, they retired in disgust, 
and, I am sorry to say, left us with very similar impres- 
sions regarding them. They were like a hundred others 
that I saw in Egypt ; and, out of Cairo, I think none bet- 
ter are to be seen. 

The last day of my stay at Thebes arrived. Before 
breakfast I crossed to the island and shot a dozen pige- 
ons, and knocked over a fox that looked impudently at 
me out of the edge of a corn-field, as if he did not believe 
in lead and charcoal. 

Pigeon shooting in Egypt no traveler will pursue except 
for the purpose of suj^plying his table. There is no sport 
in knocking over these tame birds, born and bred in the 
village pigeon houses. 

Away across the river, on the broad plain, Memnon sat 
silent and majestic on his throne, lord of all the upper 
country ; and it behooved me to take leave of him with 
due solemnity before I should go northward. 

I sent- up to Houssein Kasheef for a ladder. A firman 
can bring out of a governor in Egypt any thing that is in 
him. He had never heard of a ladder, didn't know what 
it was. But his highness had given Braheem Efiendi a 
firman, and Braheem Efiendi wanted a ladder by virtue 
of the firman, and a ladder he must have. No one in 
Egypt ever thought of climbing any thing but a palm- 
tree. But an explanation that a ladder meant something 



402 MUSIC OF MEMNON. 

to help a man up the side of a house, induced some one 
in the train to recollect that a French explorer, who had 
been some time resident here in former years, had used a 
curious combination of pieces of wood for such purposes, 
and it was forthwith hunted up. They found it in the 
subterranean chambers of the Luxor temple, where it had 
been used in copying inscriptions. It was about ten feet 
long, and likely to be of little use to me ; but I had it 
brought down to the boat. Miriam and myself went off 
together. We, hoisting our little sail, dashed swiftly 
across the Nile, to the west bank, where our donkeys 
were standing, and then across the plain to the feet of 
him of the stony eyes. 

Have I or have I not mentioned what every one ought 
to know, that Memnon is one of two statues that sit side 
by side, between whose thrones doubtless an avenue once 
passed, leading to the great burial-place, which is a thou- 
sand yards behind them. It certainly can not be neces- 
sary for me to inform any intelligent reader that the 
statue is that of Amunoph III. At what period it was 
selected as vocal and superior to its companion, we know 
not. 

With the aid of my ladder we mounted easily to the 
pedestal of the old statue, and sat down between his feet. 
The rock of which he is made is full of beautiful agates ; 
travelers cut these out for ornaments and memorials. 

I wanted to climb into the lap of the statue, and exam- 
ine for myself the sonorous stone, which, being struck, 
gives out the sound of a bell. This is by some supposed 
to be the fabled music of Memnon. An Arab boy went 
up like a cat and disappeared from our view. A moment 
later he struck the stones, first one, and then the other. 
One sounded somewhat like a bell — very little like it in- 
deed — but the other was dull, heavy, and like striking a 
blow on any rock. 



MEMNON'S LAP. 403 

Mohammed Hassan held me on his shoulders where, 
standing up, I could reach with the ladder high enough 
to hang the upper round of it on a projecting point of 
the rock and lift myself up to the lower round. It was 
not a very safe climb at the best. As I approached the 
top I found that the round, on which the ladder and I 
hung, was nearly cut in two, and the chances were that in 
thirty seconds more I should fall thirty feet, as dead as 
Memnon. I sprang to a projecting corner of the broken 
rock, and wedged myself in the huge rift that was made 
by an earthquake in ancient days, when half th^ statue 
was thrown down. Here I found that my chin was just 
above the edge of his leg. I could look into the chasm 
in his lap. It was a hole deep and broad en?Tugh to hold 
three or four men, but if priests lay concealed there, as 
has been by some intimated, the question is, how they 
got there and got away again without being seen. For 
it is a clear case that no one could effect such a lodg- 
ment and escape without a ladder, and a longer one than 
I had. 

I saw the Arab strike the stones, but I could not get 
into the lap of the old man of the plain. Perhaps I could 
have got into it, but how to get out of it again was the 
problem, and not choosing to attempt a practical solution 
of this I stepped back to the ladder, slipped down it, as 
if it were greased, to the shining shoulder of Mohammed, 
and so to the ground. 

Whether it was an earthquake, or the destroying 
army of Darius that hurled down the upper portion of 
the statue does not now appear. Probably it was the 
Persian, for Memnon's companion sits monolithic in his 
ancient seat, undisturbed, while of Memnon all the body, 
shoulders, and head, are rebuilt of massive hewn stone. 
The other and less noted statue is much the more stately 
and perfect in appearance. But no tradition has hal- 



404 HOUSSEIN KASHEEF. 

lowed him. He is but a carved stone, a rough rock, Avhile 
his old friend and companion of stony silence for so 
many centuries has name and fame in history and story, 
and is known to the very children of remote and late 
born nations. 

One half hour to stroll among the stately ruins of the 
Remeseion ; one glance over the white hills under which 
lay the millions of Egyptian dead, and then, waving our 
hands to the old watcher for the sunrise, we left him to 
his throne and kingdom. 

In starry nights of this western land in which I now 
write, I sometimes bow before a solemn, grand thought. 
He who has not seen Memnon can hardly appreciate 
what I mean. It is the thought of that stately old giant, 
sitting calmly on his rocky seat now as for thousands of 
years, while dew and dawn alternate on his cold brow. 

Old Houssein Kasheef had behaved remarkably well in 
the matter of the Jereed play, and every day after that 
was accustomed to come down early in the morning, sit 
on the sand on the sunny side of the tent, and move his 
seat around with the sun till evening, when he joined the 
group within it, and smoked his chibouk in solenm quiet, 
wondering: at the furious talk of the assembled Franks. 

I liked him from the first, perhaps because he was so 
very quiet. He never disturbed me. If I were on the 
lee side of the canvas he came and sat down quietly 
with an Arabic good morning, and smoked the pipe of 
peace in silence. Hajji Mohammed never needed an 
order to send up coffee, but so soon as the old man made 
his appearance it would begin to come, and it never 
stopped coming till he left at night. He transacted all 
his business there, received and answered letters, ex- 
amined prisoners, and, in point of fact, lived there alto- 
gether. The quantities of coffee that he consumed in a 
day's sitting were enormous. 



OLD AND LONELY. 405 

I have called him an old man. He was about seventy ; 
a small, calm-faced old Turk, with a mild, and rather 
pleasant countenance, very kind disposition, and, as I 
soon learned, very poor. The house which he occupied 
was a miserable mud affair, the largest in Luxor indeed, 
but the winds howled through it fiercely and furiously, 
and it was destitute of furniture, except only his bedstead 
and bedding, on which he reposed his weary and lone- 
some old limbs at night. I shuddered as I thought of it 
one day in his dreary room, for I had begun to like the 
old man, and I feared that some dismal morning they 
would find him cold and stiff on the split reed bedstead. 

" Why do you live alone, Houssein Kasheef ?" I asked 
him one day between two pipes. He heard me, and 
when Ferrajj had brought back my chibouk, fragrant and 
fiery, he replied, 

" Because I can not afiTord to live otherwise." 

" But you are married." 

" Allah be thanked, I have one wife and ten children, 
at Goos." 

" Why not here ?» 

" By the mercy of Allah, and the grace of his highness 
Mohammed Ali and his exalted sons, I have been gov- 
ernor at Goos for nearly twenty years. I have lived there 
since I was a man ; my wife has always lived there, and 
her friends are all there. A year ago the government 
adopted a principle of changing officers from place to 
place. A good system ; but it tore me from my family. 
I could not bring my wife and children here to this mis- 
erable hole. I left them at Goos. It is only ten hours 
from here ; but my labors are, as you know, very ar- 
duous. I have seen my wife and children but once. When 
you arrived, O Braheem Effendi, I was at Goos. I found 
them all living and well, and have come back. I am too 
poor to give up my office. I must go where I am or- 



406 THE LAST EVENING. 

dered, and I expect to die here. Perhaps I shall never 
see my wife again : Allah be merciful to us." 

He was nearly a half hour in telling me this. It came 
out briefly, in smoky ejaculations. I listened, and pitied 
him from my soul. 

The evening of our departure from Thebes was one of 
indescribable beauty. The moon lay on the water in 
silver glory. The air was a dream of splendor. The tent 
was struck at sunset, and the deserted shore appeared 
more lonely than ever. The Phantom was the only boat 
at Luxor. Every thing else had gone. 

Abd-el-Atti had been making a purchase of an antique, 
on his own account, from an Arab of Goornou. He had 
learned that a mummy of the most ancient, rare, and 
valuable kind, had been found, and he had negotiated for 
and bought it. It belonged to a company of more than 
thirty of the Goornou resurrectionists, and they would 
not consent to bring it over to Luxor to the boat, lest 
they should be caught with it by some government ofii- 
cer, and lose mummy and some of their own skin besides, 
a not unusual occurrence. Therefore the dragoman was 
puzzled on the subject, not liking to lose the opportunity 
for speculation, and not knowing how to avoid it. At 
length he was relieved by this plan. He directed the 
Arabs to bring down the daughter of Pharaoh to the 
shore of the Nile, three miles below on the west bank, 
near a tree which we all knew, at midnight on the night 
of our starting. He went down early with the small boat 
and four men to receive the freight. On our appearance 
with the Phantom he was to board us. 

Mustapha and Houssein Kasheef came down in the 
evening, and sat and talked till nearly midnight. Mus- 
tapha had a small cannon, presented him by some trav- 
eler who had carried it for saluting purposes, to which he 
zealously apphes it, and he had loaded it to the muzzle for 



THE SURLY NAZIR. 407 

a grand discharge on our departure. But I determined 
to send him oiF quietly to bed with the idea that we would 
not go till morning, and let him save his gunpowder. 

As the evening wore on, and we still sipped our coffee 
and smoked, while the candles burned dimly on the table, 
a messenger came in and whispered to Mustapha. He 
went out, and was gone half an hour. When he came 
back, he had something on his mind, and at length it came 
out. 

" Would Braheem Effendi consent to be reconciled with 
Islamin Bey, the nazir, before leaving Luxor ?" 

Of course he would. If the nazir would for once be 
decent, and come down to the boat, he should have pipes 
and coffee, and a gentleman's reception. 

Mustapha vanished. He came back soon afterward 
with downcast countenance, and told us the nazir was 
quite sick and couldn't come. 

I told Abd-el-Atti, privately, to ascertain if it was true, 
and at length I learned the fact that the surly dog had 
told Mustaj^ha briefly, in reply to his invitation, that we, 
our illustrious selves — two American pashas, of brilliant 
rank, worthy unbounded honors and admiration, to say 
nothing of our wives — might go to the devil ; that was 
the long and the short of it. 

Houssein Kasheef shrugged his old shoulders, and gath- 
ered his robes about him to be gone. 

" I hope when I come back to Luxor I shall see you 
here yet my old friend." 

" Ah, if you w ish me any thing, wish that I may be at 
Goos, or dead ; don't wish me long Hfe at Luxor." 

" If I could ask Abd-el-Kader to remove you to 
Goos—" 

" I would take you up on my head, and carry you to 
see every ruin in Egypt, could you but get me leave to 
die at Goos." 



408 LEAVING THEBES. 

So we parted. The old man looked sorrowfully back 
at the cabin, as he left it for his own miserable quarters ; 
and I thouirht then that he would remember us with some 
pleasure. It was a gratification afterward to give him 
cause to remember us when he dies among his kindred. 

Midnight was at hand. The moonlight lay like a dream 
of beauty on the river and on the ruins. Through the 
vast corridor of the temple a broad pathway of silver 
light came down, that made Mustapha's house seem like 
another Bethel at the foot of a heavenward way. 

I sat alone in the cabin of the Phantom. The others 
were sound asleep, dreaming, I doubt not, of home. 

When I came out on deck, the crew were lying here' 
and there like so many piles of cloth, giving signs of 
animation only in the long regular heaving of each mass. 

I stirred them up gently, making" as little noise as pos- 
sible, and ordered them to be as quiet. I did not wish 
to wake Mustapha's cannon. They moved about like 
ghosts on the moonlit shore, casting off the fasts. I 
took my place on the upper deck as usual, and gave my 
orders in pantomime, for the lowest utterance of the 
human voice echoed from the magnificent corridor in 
which Mustapha was sleeping. 

The Phantom drifted slowly out into the current of 
the river. As she went out of the bight or bay in which 
we had been lying, the current took her and she shot 
downward. 

All was still. Moonlight lay on the temple and on the 
shore. The tall group of palms, nearest to the mound on 
which we had buried poor Tonge, lifted their branches 
calmly into the glory of the moonlight. There my eye 
was fixed longer than elsewhere, and looking there I for- 
got to look at the temple, and so before I knew it we 
were away from Thebes, and all danger of rousing the 
echoes of the palace with Egyptian gunpowder were gone. 



PHARAOH'S DAUGHTER. 409 

"Shil!" 

They were ready, every man at his oar, and at the 
word the fourteen oars struck the plashing water to- 
gether, and the Phantom flew down the river. 

We coasted the western shore. Near the large tree 
that was the old landing j^lace on that bank, they lay on 
their oars, and I looked ahead on the moonlit shore foi- 
some indication of Abd-el-Atti with his companion of 
Pharaonic days. There was a small grove of trees not 
ilir below us which was the appointed place of meeting, 
and here I saw something which looked like the small 
boat. The shore was three hundred feet broad, and the 
moonlight lay across it, making it appear as white as 
snow, while on the bank above there was a grove of trees. 
From this, as we approached, a group of fifteen men sud- 
denly emerged into the moonlight, bearing something 
heavy, with which they hastened across the open beach 
to the boat. Then, retiring a few paces, they stood in a 
row, while the boat pushed oif and joined us as we drift- 
ed by. 

" Now — all together, men. Lift carefully and slowly. 
So she comes !" and the princess or priestess was hoisted 
to the cabin deck and laid on one of our vacant sofas, 
covered with canvas and blankets to hide her from cu- 
rious eyes, and the men again lay down to their oars. 

We swept close in shore by the row of silent Arabs ; 
the Goornou resurrectionists' guttural " Salaam Aleikoum," 
came to us as we went along, and they retired into the 
grove. 

So the daughter of the Pharaoh (who dares say she 
was not the daughter of Amunoph himself?) commenced 
her voyage from her ancient resting place and the graves 
of her fathers. Three thousand years of repose — then, 
the Nile-boat of a wandering Howajji — then, a curiosity- 
room in Cairo — and then the sea, the Pillars of Hercules, 

18 



410 



LI E M N O N . 



the Fortunate Islands, and a new world ! There is verily 
no rest even in an Egyptian grave. This royal lady slept 
quietly on our cabin deck during the voyage down the 
river, and Abd-el-Atti transferred her to Dr. Abbott at 
Cairo, who, I suppose, will ship her to enrich the collec- 
tion in New York. 




38. 




I SLEPT profoundly. It was hard to sleep on 
such nights. I often lay all night on deck doz- 
ing and dreaming till morning. 

The next afternoon, at sunset, we reached the 
landing place of Gheneh. I had j^romised Abd- 
el-Kader Bey that I would not go down the 
river without seeing him. The temple of Dendera, on 
the oj^posite shore of the river, was by no means to bo 
omitted. 

The same moonlight fell on the river and land again. 
At eight or nine o'clock the barking of foxes on shore 
temj)ted me out with my gun. The boat lay on the Avest 
side of what is at high Nile an island, but was now con- 
nected with Gheneh by the broad sandy bed of a dry 
branch of the river. In the upper part of this bed lay a 
lake of water extending down nearly abreast of our land- 
ing-place in a narrow canal-like strip. Between us and 
this was the high land of the island, and on this I heard 
the cry of the jackals. 

Starting quietly along through the corn I came out in 
an open place where I could look five hundred feet be- 
tween two rows of standincc doura. I saw at the lower 
end of the row three foxes amusing themselves very 
pleasantly in the moonshine. It was a pity to spoil their 



412 DUCKS AND FOXES, 

sport, but I wanted specimens, for as yet I had not found 
out whether there was any diflerence between the fox 
and the jackal. 

I knocked over two of them — one with each barrel. 
As the echo died away I heard a twittering and rushing 
of wings in the lake and the canal below me, which 
showed that there was game there and in quantity. 

I reloaded and slipped down the bank to the edge of 
the water. All was still. Sundry dark S230ts seemed like 
the ducks I was after, but I was uncertain whether they 
were not low grass hummocks. As I approached the 
edge of the water, creeping on hands and knees, I heard 
a step crushing the corn on the hill above me, and the 
next instant two barrels of a heavy ducking gun sent 
down a load of lead into the water, directly in front 
of me. 

Abd-el-Atti, hearing my shots at the foxes, had come 
out to my aid, and not finding me had poured down these 
loads on the water among the feathered animals. 

The cloud of birds that rose from the water was arctic 
in its vastness and thickness. Thousands of the duck 
kind filled the air. My two barrels sent some hundreds of 
shot into the cloud and brought down nearly a dozen 
splashing in the bright water. 

Abd-el-Atti was surprised. lie had no idea that I was 
near him. The game circled awhile with loud cries in the 
air ; then, as we lay motionless, and they could not see 
us, they settled again on the water, and we loaded and 
fired again. One barrel raised them, and the other three 
made terrible havoc in them as they spread their wings. 
I never saw such duck shooting, and I have had much of 
that sport from the Chesapeake to Montauk. It was ab- 
solute murder. After we had fairly scattered the flocks 
and driven them over into the Nile, we laid down our 
guns and clothes and went in after our game. They lay 



THEKORAN. 413 

on the water in all directions, and it was with much diffi- 
culty we gathered them. But it was a glorious bath in 
the cool soft water, with such a sky and such a night 
over us. 

I owe much to Abd-el-Kader. I would not have gone 
liy without seeing him, had I not promised him to stop, 
for he was the most accomplished Egyptian that I had 
met. 

He heard that I had arrived, and early in the morning 
his chief of the household was down Avith horses and an 
invitation to the governor's residence. I rode up. He was 
in his cool small reception-room, with the same four ebony 
boys that waited on him when I went up the river. 

We had sherbet and pipes and coiFee, while he finished 
his morning's business, heard a few petitioners, and re- 
ceived reports of his soldiers. Then we retired to a small 
and somewhat more cozy cabinet, where, lying on soft 
cushions, we smoked and talked as the morning slipped 
away. 

" What think you, O Abd-el-Kader, is the first duty of 
a man in his worldly affairs ?" said I. * 

" The Koran saith the first duty of a man is to his 
family." 

" Yea, truly ; and if the government so order that a 
man may not do his duty to his family ?" 

" The government doth wrong." 

"My old friend, Houssein Kasheef, of Luxor, has a 
fiimily at Goos, but Latif Pasha and Abd-el-Kader Bey 
have separated him from his family and sent him to Luxor 
to be old and cold and die. Send him back to his family." 

My friend waved his hand to a scribe or secretary, who 
stood just outside the open door, and spoke a few words 
to him before he replied to me. 

" The government have thought a rotation in office the 
better plan. When a governor resides long in one place 



414 HOUSSEIN KASHEEF SENT HOME. 

he becomes acquainted with the people, and is too apt to 
favor certain persons, perhaps to accept bribes from them. 
It is better to change once in a while. Houssein Kasheef 
has been very long at Goos." 

" Yes, but he is old ; he ought not to be separated from 
his wife and children. He is faithful to the government, 
is he not ?" 

" Always. But he will learn new things at Luxor, and 
soon like it ;" and so he continued for a few minutes to 
combat my wishes, very gently indeed, until the secretary 
reappeared with a written order, to which the governor 
affixed his seal, and then puffed his chibouk quietly, and 
enjoyed my surprise and pleasure, his own flashing out 
of his fine eyes, as his scribe handed the paper to me. 

It was an order appointing old Houssein to Goos as I 
had requested. He gave it to me that I might have the 
pleasure of forwarding it to the old man myself This I 
did without delay, and at Cairo I received a reply from 
him, full of gratitude, promising to remember Americans 
thenceforth forever. 

I passed the day with my kind host, enjoying the lux- 
ury of fruits and coffee, delicious Latakea, and pleasant 
talk. I told him stories of home, of hunting in American 
forests, of the chase on the Delaware, and the buffalo on 
the prairie. He in return told me of Mohammed Ali, for 
whom he had a son's aftection. He, when a boy, was a 
slave of that prince, had been by him educated in arts 
and arms, and he remembered him with a devotion that 
was admirable. Many stories of what he thought the 
greatest glory of Egypt he told me that I would gladly 
relate here if I had space. 

Toward evening I left him. He despatched a servant 
for a branch of an orange tree, bearing two sj^lendid 
oranges, which he sent with his compliments to the 
ladies. 



DENDERA. 415 

In the twilight I strolled through the bazaars at Ghe- 
11 eh, crowded with Ababdee Arabs, carrying huge heads 
of matted hair, some curled in masses of pipe-stem curls, 
and some hideously filthy. At the corners were many 
dark-eyed Ghawazee, with white complexions and lithe 
fcn-ms carefully exposed to view. One, a fair-faced girl 
with flashing black eyes, who hung close to me as I 
bought some perfume at a drug shop, and held out her 
tattooed hand to be touched with the fi-agrant oil, had 
been of rare beauty, but was now sadly faded. There 
was a peculiarity about her face that attracted my atten- 
tion. It was so very American. In home-costume I 
should have taken her for a heart-broken New England 
girl. Her complexion was whiter than the ordinary com- 
plexion of a New York lady's face, even than a blonde, 
and I started when I first saw her, and wondered what 
girl could have been left by a traveler's boat to shame and 
misery in this far city. 

Next day, I walked from the river to the temple at 
Dendera, shooting over the plain. Pigeons were j^lenty, 
and I killed a fox. The temple is of modern times. We 
call things old, not from actual age, but in comparison. 
Old for a man is young for a tree, but old for a tree is young 
for a temple. This temple that was built in the days of 
Cleopatra, and has a portrait of her on its walls, is of little 
interest in comparison with those that were built in the 
days of Jacob or Moses. It is in very perfect preserva- 
tion, and we wandered from room to room for hours. 
The great zodiac on the ceiling of the corridor remains 
there still, but a smaller one from one of the smaller 
rooms has been removed to Paris. I shall not weary my 
reader, who is already suf!iciently be-templed, with any 
sketch of the group at Dendera. The capitals of the 
columns of the great corridor, Which are in fact four-faced 
heads of goddesses, have been often described and en- 



416 A PRESENT. 

graved, as also the grotesque figures on the smaller tem- 
ple. We should have remained here all day, but for an 
engagement to review Abd-el-Kader's troops at Gheneh, 
and we returned to the river, crossed, and went up to 
the palace. 

The troops were altogether the best disciplined body 
of men that I saw in the East, and Abd-el-Kader prided 
himself much on them. They went through the evolu- 
tions with precision, uttering at each order or motion a 
guttural hu(/h^ like a North American Indian's expression 
of surj^rise, which enabled them to keep perfect time. 

We had coffee and pipes again in the cool reception 
room, and Miriam honored his magnificent amber and 
diamond mouth-piece with the touch of her lips. He 
presented her with a bowl, made from the horn of a rhi- 
noceros, a rare and costly present, and one most highly 
prized among the Orientals. This bowl (a rhinoceros fur- 
nishes but one as large as this) it is said has a power of 
detecting 23oison, so that none can be administered or 
taken in it. It will fly to pieces on the touch of poison, 
if its fabled virtue is true. 

When we returned to the boat, he had sent down a 
quantity of presents in the usual style, among which the 
most curious were a large variety of fowls, known only 
at Dendera. 




,^i^;^^,V^^ 




\\\\\i\T\ 





39. 

Jt)e Ci^oeoOIle '£it^- 

I PAUSED a day at Es Siout and then 
went on to Maahdeh^ on the east bank of 
the river, about five miles above Manfa- 
loot. Here we found ourselves, one morning, on awak- 
ing. 

Maabdeh is not the site of an ancient city. But it is 
the nearest point on the river to one of the most remark- 
able of the ancient catacombs of Egypt. Seven miles 
from the shore, beyond the eastern mountains, are the 
celebrated crocodile jDits, which many travelers have 
attemj^ted to exjDlore. None, I think, have succeeded as 
thoroughly as myself 

These pits have their chief celebrity, in modern times, 
from the difficulty which travelers have experienced in 
entering them, and the fatality that attended Mr. Legh's 
attempt. As his account has hitherto been most relief 
on for description of the pits, I give an extract from it, 
that it may be compared with my own. 

He proceeds as follows :* (I condense the statement 
somewhat.) 

" We formed a party of six ; each was to be preceded 
by a guide. Our torches were lighted ; one of the Arabs 

* Narrative by Thomas Legh, Esq., M. P. Philadelphia Edition, 
181Y. Page 148. etc. 

18* 



418 MR. LEGH'S ACCOUNT. 

led the way, and I followed him. We crept for seven or 
eight yards through an opening at the bottom of the pit, 
which was partly choked up with the drifted sand of the 
desert, and found ourselves in a large chamber about fif- 
teen feet high. Here we observed fragments of the mum- 
mies of crocodiles ; we saw also great numbers of bats 
flying about, and hanging from the roof. We now en- 
tered a low gallery, in which we continued for more than 
an hour, stooping or creeping as was necessary, and fol- 
lowing its windings, till at last it opened into a large 
chamber, which, after some time, we recognized as the 
one we had first entered. Our guides at last confessed 
they had missed their way, but if we would make another 
attempt, they would undertake to conduct us to the mum- 
mies. We had been wandering for more than an hour, in 
low subterranean passages, and felt considerably fatigued 
by the irksomeness of the posture in which we had been 
obliged to move, and the heat of our torches in the nar- 
row and low galleries ; but the Arabs spoke so confidently 
of succeeding in this second trial, that we Avere induced 
once more to attend them. We found the opening of the 
chamber which we now approached, guarded by a trench 
of unknown depth, and wide enough to require a good 
leap. The first Arab jumped the ditch, and we all fol- 
lowed him. The passage we entered was extremely small, 
and so low in some places as to oblige us to crawl flat on 
the ground, and almost always on our hands and knees. 
Tiie intricacies of its windings resembled a labryintli, and 
it terminated at length in a chamber much smaller than 
that which we had left, but like it containing nothing to 
satisfy our curiosity. Our search hitherto had been fruit- 
less, but the mummies might not be far distant ; another 
eflbrt and we might still be successful. 

" The Arab whom I followed, and who led the way, 
now entered another gallery, and we all continued to 



MR. LEGH'S ACCOUNT. 419 

move ill the same manner as before, each preceded by a 
guide. We had not gone far before the heat became ex- 
cessive ; I found my breathing extremely difficult ; my 
head began to ache most violently, and I had a most dis- 
tressing sensation of fullness about the lieart. We felt 
we had gone too far, and yet were almost deprived of the 
power to return. At this moment the torch of the first 
Arab went out ; I was close to him and saw him fall on 
his side ; he uttered a groan ; his legs were strongly con- 
vulsed, and I heard a rattling noise in his throat — he was 
dead. The Arab behind me, seeing the torch of his com- 
panion extinguished, and conceiving he liad stumbled, 
passed me, advanced to his assistance and stooped. I 
observed him appear faint, totter, and fall in a moment : 
he also was dead. The third Arab came forward, and 
made an effort to approach the bodies, but stopped short. 
We looked at each other in silent horror. The danger 
increased every instant ; our torches burned faintly ; our 
knees tottered under us, and we felt our strength nearly 
gone. There was no time to be lost. 

" The American cried to us to take courage, and we 
began to move back as fast as we could. We heard the 
remaining Arab shouting after us, calling us Kaffirs, im- 
ploring our assistance, and upbraiding us with deserting 
him. But we were obHged to leave him to his fate, ex- 
pecting every moment to share it with him. The wind- 
ings of the passage through which we had come increased 
the difficulty of our escape. We might take a wrong 
turn, and never reach the great chamber we had first 
entered. Even supposing we took the shortest road, it 
was but too probable our strength would fail us before 
we arrived. We had each of us separately, and unknown 
to one another, observed attentively the different shapes 
of the stones which projected into the galleries we had 
passed, so that each liad an imperfect clue to the laby- 



420 MR. L E G H ' a ACCOUNT. 

rintli we had now to retrace. "VVe compared notes, and 
only on one occasion bad a dispute — the American differ- 
ing from my friend and myself. In this dilemma we 
were determined by the majority, and fortmiately were 
rischt. Exhausted with fatic^ue and terror we reached 
the edge of the deep trench, which remained to be 
crossed before we got into the great chamber. Muster- 
ing all my strength I leaped, and was followed by the 
American. Smelt stood on the brink ready to drop with 
fatigue. He called to us, for God's sake, to help him 
over the fosse, or at least to stop, if only for five 
minutes, to allow him time to recover liis strength. It 
Avas impossible — to stay was death — and we could not 
resist the desire to push on and reach the open air. We 
encouraged him to summon all his force, and he cleared 
the trench. When we reached the open air it was one 
o'clock, and the heat in the sun about 160°. Our sailors, 
who were waiting for us, had luckily a bardak full of 
water, which they sprinkled upon us, but, though a little 
refreshed, it was not possible to climb the sides of the 
pit. They then unfolded their turbans, and slinging 
them round our bodies, drew us to the toj). Our ap- 
pearance alone, without our guides, naturally astonished 
the Arab who had remained at the entrance of the 
cavern, and he anxiously inquired for his hahabebas or 
friends. To have confessed they were dead would have 
excited suspicion of our having murdered them. We re- 
plied they were coming, and were employed in bringing 
out the mummies we had found. We lost no time in 
mounting our asses, re-crossed the desert, and jiassed 
hastily by the village to regain the ferry of Manfalout. 
Our kandjia was moored close to the town, and we got 
safe on board by five o'clock." 

Many travelers since Mr. Lcgh's time have, with great 
justice, condemned him for deserting his men under such 



ROAD TO THE PITS. 421 

circumstances. My own experience in these pits con- 
vinces me that he was decidedly wrong. The account 
of his failure and that of subsequent explorers did not 
deter me from the attempt I now proposed. 

Early in the morning I began to make arrangements 
for guides among the villagers, but I found great diffi- 
culty in persuading any to go with me. The reason was 
not that given by Mr. Legh, fear of the pits, but they 
said that we must pass through a village near the mount- 
ains, where the inhabitants would assuredly beat them 
off and take us into their merciful protection, whereby 
they, the shore guides, would lose their pay beside 
getting a thrashing. It Avas only on assurance of pay, 
beating or no beating, that I could i:>ersuade two of 
them to go with me. Abd-el-Atti and Abdallah, one of 
my boat's crew, the two guides and myself, formed the party 
who started for the mountains, crossing the largest grain 
field that I have seen in Egypt. It Avas almost prairie-like 
in appearance, being three miles or so in breadth, and 
stretching up and down the river as far as I could see — one 
long waving field of green wheat flashing in the sunshine. 

Crossing this we arrived at a narrow branch of the 
Nile, now dry, but apparently quite recently filled, and 
near this a village, the one of which our guides had ex- 
pressed their fear. The custom which they stood in 
dread of is said to be 2:)revalent in this neighborhood, 
but to our and their surprise no molestation was off*ered 
us at this crossing, the men of the village being absent on 
some prowling expedition, or possibly engaged in the 
fields. Climbing the side of the mountain, which is here 
not more than six hundred feet high, consisting of beet- 
ling cliflfs of white rock that overhung our path, and 
which had, in some ancient times, been quarried for the 
purposes of a city now wholly gone, we arrived on the 
elevated table-land of the Arabian desert. 



422 THE PARTY, 

Such appears to be the character of the land on both 
sides of the Nile, resembling in that respect portions of 
the upper Mississippi. The valley is a deep depression or 
rift in a vast table of high land. 

We had still some miles to go. I am entirely unable 
to estimate the distance, but can safely say that it was 
not less than five miles from the landing place, in all. 
Our path was over a sandy soil, with broken rocks jutting 
out here and there, but no sign of vegetation whatever 
visible. The peculiarity of it was a crystal of what I 
suppose to be gypsum over which Ave walked all the 
way. My feet crushed in it like walking on dry moss. 
Enormous quantities of it, thousands of bushels, were 
on the surface of the ground, to be gathered up by any 
one. I know not what commercial value it has, but it 
seemed to me a desirable matter to be examined by 
some one interested in Egyptian agriculture if in nothing 
else. 

In crossing the plain I had been overtaken by a jDarty 
consisting of two English gentlemen, their dragoman and 
a sailor from their boat with a guide, who learning of our 
guarantee had consented to bring them along and take 
the risk of j^assing the village safely. Their boat had 
arrived just as I was coming away from mine. 

We had joined forces and come on together, presenting 
a formidable array which it required some courage in any 
party of Arabs to attack. At length we found ourselves 
in a water shed toward the east, and this narrowed to 
what was apparently the bed of a torrent, finding its way 
downward to the south-east, the hills on each side sloping 
toward it. 

The ground was still covered with yellow sand but 
further along the torrent bed was bare gray rock, and 
now the guides stopped. 

I saw no hole or entrance till I was close to them. 



ENTRANCE. 423 

They paused on the edge of a hole in the sand, about six 
feet long by four wide at the widest end, narrowing 
to a point at the other. It descended perpendicularly 
about ten feet to a floor of sand. Originally it was much 
deeper, but the sand flowing into it in every Avind, has 
filled it much. It is only marvelous that it was not long 
ago quite filled. There was nothing outside to indicate 
its existence. No ruin, nor stone ; persons might pass a 
hundred times w^ithin twenty feet of it and not see it. 
The sand was unbroken to its very edge. 

After resting a few moments I prejoared for the en- 
trance to the pit. 

As it was by no means certain that the villagers from 
the foot of the mountain would permit us to finish our ex- 
amination unmolested, and as Abd-el-Atti now strenuously 
objected to entering the hole himself, I left him sitting on 
the ground at the entrance with the sailor from the othei- 
boat, and the donkey-boys, taking Abdallah wdth me ; he 
seeming very willing to go in, and not at all influenced 
by the tales of horror with which the guides had amused 
us along the way. I took off" all the clothes that I had 
worn and put on an old shirt and a pair of brown linen 
pantaloons of the coarsest sort. This was my total equip- 
ment. 

Having no coat and no breast-pocket, and mindful of 
the disasters which had occurred to various travelers 
solely from want of stimulants in this cavern, I put my 
small pocket brandy-flask, a glass flask covered with 
wicker, into my pantaloons pocket, each of us having iji 
the first place fortified himself with a single swallow of 
the liquor. 

The descent into the cavern was by sitting on the 
edge, swinging off with one hand on each side of the 
hole, and dropping into the depths below, w^here a soft bed 
of sand received us, in a chamber just large enough to 



424 FIRST CHAMBER. 

hold the eight persons of whom the party consisted, all 
standing in a stooping posture while we lighted our can- 
dles and arranged for our progress. I tossed my tar- 
bouche and takea up to Abd-el-Atti, and left my head 
bare. Then, following the principal guide, I lay down flat 
on my face, holding my candle before me, and began to 
advance with as close a resemblance to a snake's motion 
as human vertebrae will admit of. My other guide and 
Abdallah followed me ; the English gentlemen next, and 
their dragoman and guide bringing up the rear. I pro- 
gressed slowly, and with great difiiculty, constantly 
bruising my back on the sharp points of the rock above 
me, some five or six yards. Legh calls it eight, but I 
think it not so much. "VVe w^ere now able to stand up 
again, in a stooping posture, the ceiling being a little 
over four feet high, and thus advanced eight or ten yards 
further, until we reached the chamber of which Mr. 
Legh speaks. 

I am of opinion that we had now arrived just under the 
bed of the torrent I have spoken of, and that the entire 
cavern, which I afterward explored, is a natural fissure in 
the rock running under this point of meeting of two hills, 
and following the line of the valley between them. This 
is, of course, but a conjecture, as I did not take a com- 
pass with me to determine the course. 

This chamber was a small, irregular, cavernous room, 
the floor of which was covered with shapeless masses of 
stone that had fallen from the roof. Over these we step- 
ped with great difiiculty. I need not remark that the 
darkness was profound, and the air already became so 
close that our candles burned but dimly, so that each 
man was obliged to hold his own at his feet to determine 
where to set them. Crossing the room, we stepped 
over a chasm between a mass of rock and the wall of the 
chamber, to a point in the wall, which presented a rag- 



THE CAVERN. 425 

ged edge, and from this into a narrow doorway, about 
four feet high. I call it a doorway, for it resembled one, 
though I could find no signs of artificial origin about it. 
It was almost square, and opened into a sort of gallery, 
the floor of which was covered with broken rock, and in- 
terrupted by huge deep fissures. A ledge at the side 
afforded tolerable walking for some distance, in a stooj)- 
ing posture ; and then we again lay down on our faces 
and crawled through a passage twenty feet in length, 
entering the largest chamber in the pit. It was a vast 
irregular cavern, perhaps seventy or a hundred feet in 
diameter. Entrance to it was almost forbidden by clouds 
of bats that met me in the narrow passage through which 
I was crawling, dashing into my face, wounding my fore- 
liead and cheeks, clinging by scores to my hair and beard, 
like so many thousand devils disputing the entrance to 
hell. I can give no adequate idea of this chamber of hor- 
rors in which I now found myself. Profoundly silent, we 
had crawled along, each man having a fast-beating heart, 
and listening to its throbs ; and now, as I emerged into 
this room, the loud whirr of the myriads of bats was like 
the sounds of another world into Avhicli I had penetrated. 
I staggered forward to a rock and sat down, when a 
piercing yell started me to my feet. It rang through the 
cavern as if the arch-fiend himself were there tormenting 
some poor soul. But it was only one of my poor friends 
who were making their first entrance to an Egyptian 
catacomb, and had never before encountered the bats, with 
whom I was thoroughly familiar. The one who was in 
advance was overwhelmed by the army that met him as 
he approached the room. 

" What is it ?" I shouted. 

" These bats : they are devouring me.'' 

" Push on ; they'll not harm you." 

" My hght is gone, and I can see nothing." 



426 PREPARATIONS FOR FAILURE. 

" Here is my light ; come toward it." 1 had re-lit my 
candle, which had been put out as his was, and was now 
seated in the centre of the cavern, on a black rock, hold- 
ing it up before my face. As he emerged into the room 
and caught sight of me, he uttered a howl of mingled 
astonishment and terror. 

" Pluto or Sathanas, by all the gods," said his friend, 
coming up behind him, and looking at me. My appear- 
ance must have been picturesque in my primitive costume, 
now begrimmed with dirt, and seven bats (they counted 
them) hanging on my beard, with a perfect net-work and 
Medusa-coil of them in my hair. I was very little dis- 
turbed by the harmless little fellows, although, before 
coming to Egypt, I scarcely knew of an animal in the 
world so disgusting to my mind. 

But the atmosphere, if it may be so called, of this 
chamber was beyond all description horrible. It was not 
an air to faint in ; there was too much ammonia for that. 
It was foul, vile, terrible. I confess, that, as I found my- 
self panting for breath, and drawing long, deep inspira- 
tions, to very choking, without " reaching the right place" 
in my lungs (I think every one understands that), I trem- 
bled for an instant at the idea of going farther. It was 
but an instant, however, and the desire to see the great 
repository of the sacred animals overpowered the momen- 
tary terror. 

" Abdallah." 

" Ya, Howajji." 

" If any thing happens ; if I fall down, give out, or 
faint, don't you run. Tell the guides that I have ordered 
Abd-el-Atti to shoot them man by man as they come out, 
if one of them appears without me. Do you pour this 
down my throat, and drag me out to the entrance. You 
understand ?" 

" Aiowah, Ya Howajji. Fear not ; I will do it." 



ADVANCE. 427 

"Recollect that if I die, you all die. That is arrano-ed 
for, as surely as you, one of you, attempt the entrance 
without me, Abd-el-Atti is ready for you." 

The guides had listened attentively, and, havino- seen 
me hand my pistols to my trusty dragoman before com- 
ing down, they believed every word of it, though it had 
never occurred to me till this instant. 

The guides were all at fault here, precisely as they 
were in Mr. Legh's time, and that of every traveler since. 
This chamber has been the end of most attempts to ex- 
plore the ^^its. The intense darkness is some excuse for 
this, since our eight candles wholly failed to show a wall 
any where around or above us. The men proposed that 
we should sit still while they tried various passages open- 
ing out of the room. To this I objected, much preferring 
to trust myself at a juncture like this. In that intense 
blackness it was not easy to find even the way we had come 
in at, for, of course, there was no guide to north or south, 
except my recollection of the shape of the rock on which 
I was seated, and its bearings as I approached it. The 
reader will bear in mind that the whole floor of this room 
was covered with immense masses of rock, among which 
we moved about in search of outlets, leaving always one 
person on that rock to mark its locality. 

After trying three passages that led nowhere, I hit on 
that one which the guides pronounced correct, and the 
party advanced. For the benefit of future explorers, if 
any such there be, I may explain that it is the first pas- 
sage which goes out of the chamber to the right as you 
enter it. That is to say, keeping the right-hand wall will 
bring you to it, leaping a chasm at its entrance. This is 
the chasm of which Legh speaks. I found it to be only 
about six feet deep. 

The passage which we now entered ran so low that I 
found it necessary to creep on my hands and knees, and 



428 NARROW PLACE. 

sometimes to crawl, snake fiishion, full length. It con- 
tinued for a distance that I hesitate to estimate. It is 
wholly impossible to guess at the progress one is making 
in such postures. Henniker, I think, makes it four hun- 
dred yards. I should think a thousand feet a very large 
estimate, but it may be as much. The air was now worse, 
lacking the ammonia. It seemed to be almost pure nitro- 
gen. The lungs o23erated freely, but took no benefit or 
refreshment from it, while the heat was awful, and per- 
spiration rolled down our faces and bodies, soaking our 
clothes and making mud on our features and hands, with 
the fine dust that filled the atmosphere. At length the 
passage became so narrow, that my progress was blocked 
entirely. My broad shoulders would not go through, and 
I paused to consider the matter. The hole was about 
eighteen inches wide, and a little more than two feet high. 
Evidently Mr. Legh did not pass beyond this. I was ob- 
liged to lie over on my right side, presenting my body to 
it narrow way np and down, and pushing with all the 
strength of my feet as well as pulling with my hands on 
the floor and rocky projections, I forced myself along 
about eight feet. In this struggle my brandy flask, which 
was in my trowsers pocket, being under me, was broken 
to pieces, and my sole hoj^e, in the event of a giving out of 
my faculties, was gone. At the time, I thought little of it, 
laughing at the occurrence as I called out to those who fol- 
lowed me ; but afterward I remembered the incident with 
a shudder. The only argument that had allowed me to 
persuade myself to attempt this exploration was a pro- 
mise to myself that I would take brandy with me, which 
no one else had done, and, if necessary, secure artificial 
strength thereby. It was gone now, and I was more than 
a thousand feet from light and air, in a passage that did 
not average four feet by two its entire length. 

A vigorous push sent me out into a more open passage 



THE CROCODILE MUMMIES. 429 

and a sort of doorway oj^ened into a gallery on a level 
two feet lower. Jumping down this step I was, for the 
first time in nearly a half hour, where I could stand up- 
right. My English friend shouted for help behind me. 
His light was gone out, and he was literally stuck in the 
hole. I returned, touched my candle to his and gave him 
a hand to drag him through, and in a few moments we 
were all standing together. We now advanced some 
hundred feet, perhaps three, perhaps five hundred, in a 
stooping posture mostly, but occasionally crawling as be- 
fore, and, at length, as we crept, the rough and very low 
parts of the gallery and the roof began to lift, and I found 
that I was actually crawling over mummies. There was 
just here a sort of blind passage at the side of the chief 
passage, in which the French expedition had carved their 
names. The walls were covered with a jet black sub- 
stance, like the purest lamp black, which the point of a 
knife would scratch off, exposing the Avhite rock. Numer- 
ous stalactites hung from the ceiling, all jet black, and 
some grotesque stalagmites at the sides of the passage 
startled me at first with the idea that they were sculp- 
tures. This black sooty matter I can not account for 
unless it be the exhalations in ancient times from the 
crocodiles which were laid here, for we were at last in the 
depository. 

The floor was covered with crocodile bones and mum- 
my cloths. A spark of fire falhng into them would have 
made this a veritable hell. As this idea was suggested, 
my English friends, whose experience in the narrow hole 
had been sufficiently alarming, vanished out of sight. 
They fairly ran. Having seen the mummies, and seized a 
few small ones in their hands, they hastened out, and lefl me 
with Abdallah and my two guides. Advancing over the 
mummies and up the hill Avhich they formed, I found that 
I was in one of a number of large chambers, of the depth 



430 THE CROCODILE MUMMIES. 

of which it was of course impossible to get any idea, as 
they were piled full of mummied crocodiles to the very 
ceiling. There was no means of estimating the number 
of them. When I say there were thousands on thou- 
sands of them, I shall not be thought to exaggerate after 
I describe the manner in w^hich they w^ere packed and 
laid in. 

Climbing to the top of the hill, and extinguishing all 
lights but one, Avhich I made Abdallah hold very care- 
fully, I began to throw down the top of the pile to ascer- 
tain of what it was composed, and at length I made an 
oj)ening between the mummies and the ceiling, through 
which I could go on further, descending a sort of hill of 
these dead animals, such as I had come up. In this way I 
progressed some distance, in a gallery or chamber that 
was not less than twenty feet wide and probably twenty 
or thirty feet deep. 

The crocodiles were laid in regular layers, head to tail 
and tail to head. First on the floor was a layer of large 
crocodiles, side by side, each one carefully mummied and 
wrapped up in cloths. Then smaller ones were laid be- 
tween the tails and filling up the hollows between these. 
Then, and most curious of all, the remaining interstices 
were packed full of young crocodiles, measuring with re- 
markable uniformity about thirteen inches in length, each 
one stretched out between two slips of palm-leaf stem, 
which were bound to its sides like sjilints, and then wrap- 
ped from head to foot in a strip of cloth, wound around, 
commencing at the tail and fastened at the head. These 
small ones were made up in bundles, usually of eight, 
and packed in closely wherever they could be stowed. I 
brought out more than a hundred of them, of which my 
friends in Egypt seized on the most as curiosities, but I 
succeeded in getting some twenty or thirty of them to 
America with me. 



GOINGON. 431 

This layer completed, a layer of palm brandies was 
carefully laid over it, spread thick and smooth, and then a 
second and precisely similar layer of crocodiles was made, 
and another of palm branches, and thus continued to the 
ceiling. These palm branches, stems, and mummies lie 
here in precisely the state they were in two thousand 
years ago. IsTo leaf of the palm had decayed. There 
could have been no moisture from the mummies whatever 
— or if any it had no effect on the palm branches. 

Among these crocodiles I found the mummies of many 
men. 

Sitting down on the hill, by the dim candle light, I 
overhauled gods and men with sacrilegious hand. It was 
a strange, wild, and awful scene. Among all the pictures 
that my memory has treasured of wandering life, I have 
none so fearful and thrilling as this. It was hell — a still, 
silent, cold hell. All these bodies lay in rows, in close 
packages, like so many souls damned to eternal silence 
and sorrow in this prison. Five bodies of men that I 
drew out of the mass lay before me, and cursed me with 
their hideous stillness and inaction. I dared them to tell 
me in words the reproaches of which their silent forms 
were so liberal; reproaches for penetrating their abode 
and disturbing the repose of twenty or forty centuries. 

These were of the poorest and most common sort, des- 
titute of any box, wound in coarse cloth and laid in the 
grave with the beasts that were sacred to their god. One 
I found afterward in a thin plain box, but it contained no 
indication of its period, and bore no mark of its owner's 
name or position, much to my disappointment. 

" Let us go further," I said to the guides, at length. 

*' There is no further." 

I was satisfied that the entrance we had effected was 
not by the passage knoAvn to the ancients, and that some 
other outlet lay beyond these chambers. I pushed my 



432 ONE OF NOAH'S TIME. 

way over the jjiles of mummies to a point where another 
low passage went on, but it was too difficult of explora- 
tion to tempt me into it. It may lead to an outlet in the 
desert hitherto unknown, or that outlet may he long ago 
covered over by the shifting sands. 

What was the object of all this preservation of the Nile 
monsters it is not within the scope of this volume to dis- 
cuss. It is at least a mystery, for we know so little of 
the Egyptian theory of a hereafter that we can not un- 
derstand what i^art the birds and beasts were to take in 
the resurrection. 

Time flew fast, and I began to think that if I remained 
much longer I should be in a fair way to await the 
resurrection of the crocodiles before I should emerge to 
light. 

I much desired to bring out with me a gigantic fellow, 
nearly twenty feet long, but the impossibility of it made 
it more manifest that he never came in by the way I had 
entered. He was one of the ante or immediately post- 
diluvian sort, a crocodile of the days when there were 
giants. Perhaps he had survived the flood, who knows ? 
He may have laid that huge jaw on the edge of the ark 
in stormy times and fixed those hollow eyes on the 
strange ship of Noah. He may have fed on dainty limbs 
that were swept down to him from the wrecks of palaces. 
I wonder how long a crocodile lives. What rags these 
are that fill this cavern. Rags of grave-clothes. The last 
thin covering of the dead, torn to tatters ! These young 
fellows have paddled in sacred fountains and been fed in 
costly vases in temples ? These silent men were guard- 
ians, keepers, feeders of the sacred animals, and were 
buried with their charges — or possibly, they were croco- 
dile embalmers, privileged expressly to rot — no — to pre- 
servation with their hideous companions. 

O friend, there is pleasant thought, in our land, of 



DAYLIGHT AGAIN. 433 

graves in shadowy church-yard corners, but think of life 
in such employment and burial here ! If I thought that 
I were to be laid in that horrible company — I would — 
I would — if they did lay me there I would rise up 
and walk from very horror and find another grave for 
myself. 

I crawled out as I had crawled in. Before I came 
away from the chamber of horror (Madame Tussaud's is 
nothing like it) I laid the wreck of my brandy-flask on a 
projecting shelf of rock where the next explorer will 
find it. The chances are that it will turn up in the 
British or Prussian Museum, as evidence of the bad 
habits of the ancient Egyptians thus proved to be strong 
in death. 

I never saw a light so clear and beautiful as was the 
daylight that fell in the entrance of the cavern. As I ap- 
proached it its tints appeared deep violet only — exceed- 
ingly rich. 

" What is that ?" I exclaimed, not recognizing the 
divine sunshine from which I had been for some hours 
separated. 

My appearance must have been hideous as I sprang out 
on the sand, and fell down exhausted at the very side of 
the pit. The desert air seemed piercing cold, and the 
brandy being all gone, I could but wraj) myself in a 
boornoose, and seek to get warmth in the sunshine. 

My arrival was opportune. It was about three in the 
afternoon. The bellicose villagers had been collected 
after our coming on to the mountain, and were just now 
making their appearance in a body of about twenty. 
They paused at a hundred yards' distance, and sent one, 
a huge fellow with an uncommonly bold air, to be spokes- 
man in their demands. His brave and impudent way of 
demanding by what right we were on the mountain was 
deserving of a better fate than awaited him. 

19 



434 AN ATTACK. 

" Is the mountain yours ?" 

" Yes, it is ours ; no one has a right to be here without 
paying us. Who is to pay me, now ?" 

" I will," said Abd-el-Atti, springing at him, koorbash 
in hand, which he laid on furiously over his head and 
shoulders. The astounded Arab endeavored to assert his 
rights again, but the whip fell fast, and at length, com- 
pletely routed, he fled toward his allies, and they joined 
him in the flight, while the indefatigable dragoman pur- 
sued the entire party, brandishing his weapon in the air, 
to their immense horror and our infinite amusement. 

As he paused, they stood and shouted a defiance that 
was ludicrous under the circumstances, and preeminently 
so their threat to go down to Manfaloot and inform the 
governor that a traveler, with an Egyptian dragoman, 
had committed this wrong on their prescriptive rights. 
From Mr. Legh's account, it seems probable that in his 
day the Manfaloot governor was, to a certain extent, 
under the influence of these men, but we laughed at them 
as we turned to our claret and luncheon, which I de- 
voured with a voracious appetite. I am compelled to 
admit that it tasted of mummy. I can not deny that 
every thing that I ate for a week had the same flavor. 
Countless washings would not clear my mouth and throat 
of the fine, impalpable dust that covered its interior, and 
'"♦ly moustache was mummyish for a month, spite of Lubin 
and Piver. 

Stopping on the way back to visit a small Coptic church 
near the village at the foot of the mountain, we reached 
the boat at three o'clock in the afternoon, and my first 
movement was to j)lunge over the other side into the 
river. Until this was accomplished, it was useless to hope 
to be recognized in the cabin of the Phcmtom. My com- 
plexion was dead crocodile, my odor w^as dead crocodile, 
my clothes were dead crocodile — for I had not changed 



MANFALOOT. 436 

them on coming out of the pit — I was but little removed 
from being a dead crocodile myself. 

While we dined, the boat drifted down the river four 
miles, to Manfaloot on the west bank. 

Reis Hassanein's request to be allowed to go by without 
stopping could not be granted, and indeed he had begun 
to think better of it. He disappeared on our arrival at 
the city, and reappeared in an hour with smiles on his 
face. 

I went, so soon as we had finished dinner, to the Coptic 
convent, which is one of the most interesting in Egypt, 
but that is not saying much. 

The Coptic church is most sadly degenerated. Igno- 
rance and stupidity seem to characterize the priests, and 
I found none of the laity who seemed to have even an 
ordinary idea of the fundamental truths of the Christian 
religion. 

The church was a low, arched room, the ceiling sup- 
ported on arches which rested on brick pillars. The altar 
was behind a latticed door, and at the opposite end of the 
church was a latticed place for the females. All was cold, 
damp, and dreary. There were some very curious old 
pictures on the walls, which were, indeed, my object in 
coming here, but the bishop was absent, and I did not 
talk with any one about them. They took us into the 
convent court, and we sat down a while with a half dozen 
.monks to discuss chibouks and coflTee, and some dry 
wheaten cakes — blessed cakes from the altar, if I mistake 
not, though we could not get the explanation of their pe- 
culiarity — and then I strolled up into the city. 

In the bazaar I met the governor on his way down to 
see me, and I turned him back to go to his own house. 

Taking a seat with him in the gloomy court, we lit pipes 
and had sipped coffee a few minutes, when our interview 
was interrupted by the entrance of a fellah, v/ho demanded 



436 JUSTICE. 

loudly for an audience from the governor, and presenting 
himself at his feet in the shadowy corner of the court, 
poured out a furious tale of wrongs that he had suffered 
on the opposite side of the river from a traveler and his 
dragoman. 

The foolish dog had not once raised his eyes to see that 
the companion of the governor's diwan was none other 
than his enemy. Had he looked, he would scarcely have 
recognized in the tolerably respectable visage and cloth- 
ing of Braheem Effendi, the dirty brown, half-naked ob- 
ject just emerged from the crocodile pits. 

Terrible was his narration, and a governor of ordinary 
intellect must have been moved to indignation at some 
one, the lying narrator or the accused, by his admirable 
tale. But Ali Rashwan Bey was not the man to be af- 
fected by trifles, and his sagacious mind took in the 
whole. 

When the accuser had finished, the governor was silent 
for a moment, while clouds of smoke — dire portent ! — 
filled the air above the head of the devoted fellah. 

" Hast thou heard him, O Braheem Effendi ?" 

" Yea, word for word, O high and mighty governor." 

" How much is false, and how much is true, O Howajji 
Braheem ?" 

"All is false — save only this — that he, with nineteen 
other men of his village, did set on me in the mountain 
pass and would verily have robbed me, as they have 
robbed travelers oftentimes heretofore, but that we put 
them to flight. There are many bad stories of his village 
written in the books, and it would be well to punish them 
once for all, that the traveler may not hereafter be pre- 
vented from visiting the crocodile pits at Maabdeh." 

"Lay the unrighteous dog on the ground." They 
have a knack at it in Egypt. I have never seen it done 
as well in other Turkish countries. Before he had time 



COPTIC BISHOP. 437 

to howl he was lying on his face, a man sitting on his 
shoulders, and another on his legs. 

" Name the nineteen companions who were with you 
on the mountain." 

No answer. 

A nod to the ready slave, and the blow fell. The 
victim howled, but it was evident that he howled as a 
matter of course. Eastern flogging, except when the 
bastinado is used on the feet, is a farce. The blows of a 
large stick on loose clothes do no harm until they have 
been often repeated. This is the explanation of the vast 
number of blows sometimes administered. Five hundred 
in Egypt is not equal to five dozen in the navy of En- 
gland, scarcely indeed to one dozen. By the tenth blow 
there is a perceptible aching, but the hundredth may not 
be painful at all. After a few blows the character of the 
performance was changed, and the soles of his feet were 
turned up. This is a stinging infliction. At the fifteenth 
blow he shouted the name of a companion, and out came 
the whole row. Before I left Manfaloot next morning, 
every one of the nineteen were in prison there, awaiting 
sentence. 

I returned to the Coptic church in the evening. The 
old bishop was there, and with a dim candle he and I 
entered the church. I showed him what picture I wished, 
and he pushed the bishop's chair under it for me to stand 
in and look at it, holding up the dip to its surface. But 
he would not sell it to me. 

He insisted on giving it to me, if I would promise not 
to make him any present in return. He was old, very 
old, and they would say the old bishop had sold church 
property, and that would never do. I would not accept 
it on such terms, and then he lamented that he had of- 
fended me, and I, to convince him he had not, took him 
along down to the boat, where he comforted his old 



438 WINE AND COFFEE. 

bones with such wine as he had never tasted before. 
AH Rashwan came down directly, and sat on the op- 
posite diwan. He was Moslem and could not drink 
wine. But he took coiFee, cup for glass with the bishop, 
and one emptied the coffee-pot and the other the de- 
canter by bed time. Bed time came early, for I was very 
weary, having accomphshed the hardest day's work that 
I did in Egypt. 



It was a pleasant afternoon when we a2")proaclied Beni 
Hassan, but a dark cloud lay in the west, and the ah* was 
cold. A head wind kept the boat back, and we took the 
small boat, with sundry shawls, cloaks, luncheon and its 
accompaniments, and pulled down the river to the nearest 
point from which we could reach these celebrated tombs. 
We thus gained an hour or two on the large boat, and 
had time to examine the most interesting paintings. 

The broad plain was to be crossed, here nearly or quite 
a mile wide, and the land being newly plowed, made the 
walking excessively fatiguing. But the hillside was more 
so, and to add to our trouble, a sharp pelting shower of 
rain came uj) as we were climbing the sandy slope, and 
we laughed at each other for being caught out in a storm 
in Egypt without an umbrella. 

It lasted but a few minutes, and then the sun shone 
gloriously into the open tombs, which, being on the east 
side of the river, open to the west. 

Beni Hassan was for a long time regarded with great 
interest, because of a painting on the wall of one of the 
chief tombs, which was supposed to represent the arrival 
in Egypt of the brethren of Joseph. There arc several 
points tending remarkably to show that this is so, but 
others which perhaps forbid the idea. The tomb is of the 



440 TOMBS AT BENI HASSAN. 

time of Osirtasen, whom Wilkinson supposes to be co- 
temporary with Joseph. The pictm-e represents the pre- 
sentation of strangers to a person — not royal. The stran- 
gers are two men bringing a goat and a gazelle as presents, 
then four men leading a donkey, on which are baskets 
containing two children, a boy and four women following, 
another donkey loaded, and two men bringing up the 
rear. The number thirty-seven is placed above them, to 
indicate that these are but the representatives of that 
number. The name of the person into whose presence 
they are led is not Joseph, nor Zaphnath Paaneah, but 
Nehoth or Nef hotph ; and names of his father and mother 
are also given. 

It is, however, by no means certain that this is not a 
representation of that memorable scene. It may be that 
in this tomb the bones of Joseph awaited the exodus, or 
those of one of his mighty brothers lay till barbarian 
hands broke their repose. 

But the tombs of Beni Hassan are interestino; on other 
accounts than these. We find among them almost as 
many representations of scenes in the private lives of an- 
cient Egyptians as at Thebes. The tombs of greatest in- 
terest open in a row, side by side, on a terrace some hun- 
dred feet above the level of the plain on the hillside. One 
of these contains admirable colored pictures of nearly all 
the animals, birds, beasts, and fish known to ancient Egypt. 

Another is particularly interesting as containing repre- 
sentations of games and gymnastics, many of which are 
very familiar to moderns. 

They play at ball, games of chance, and of skill. We 
passed the entire afternoon in going from one to another, 
sketching outlines of the drawings on the walls, studying 
the curious lists of animals, and looking out from the 
doors at the magnificent view over the Nile. 

As the darkness approached we came down the hill and 



A MISTAKE. 441 

crossed the plowed land to our small boat. The Phantom 
had gone on down the Nile, and we had hard work before 
us to overtake her. We were delayed longer by stopping 
to shoot a duck, and then the men lay down to their oars, 
and the boat flew through the water. A dark cloud 
again gathered and began to pour a shower on us. "We 
sat close together in the stern of the boat and drew my 
boornoose over the whole party. It was a home-like 
shower. Suddenly Miriam, whose eyes were out of a 
hole watching the shore, shouted, "Timsa, Timsa," and 
the next instant a magnificent crocodile, who had fallen 
asleep on a sand bank and not woke up to see that it 
was getting dark, roused by our oars close to his nose, 
lifted himself high up on his legs, and as I sent a load of 
shot into his hide sprang into the air and fell with a tre- 
mendous splash in the water and vanished. He was the 
last of the gods of Egypt that I saw. 

Ten minutes later we were startled by a very long low 
black boat, apparently crammed Avith men putting out 
from the shore, evidently to intercept us. The neighbor- 
hood of Beni Hassan is celebrated for robberies, and the 
prospect looked bad. But we held on, and as we neared 
her Trumbull shouted to them to put down their helm 
and sheer off, while we all three rose with guns raised, 
commanding them completely and ready to pour in a 
volley of six barrels. The next instant the loud voice of 
Ferrajj shouting his own name and imploring us not to 
fire, changed the seriousness of the scene to the ludicrous, 
The faithful fellow knew that we were without umbrellas, 
and had hired a shore boat to come up and bring them to 
us. The shower Avas now nearly over, but we were wet 
and cold, and it was much the most uncomfortable night 
Ave had experienced on the river. The cabin Avas Avel- 
come, and Hajji Mohammed's dinner as usual restored 
our equanimity. 

19* 



442 LATIF PASHA. 

In the intervals of a furious gale of wind that blew all 
niofht that niirht we drifted down to Minieh, where Latif 
Pasha was laid up with an attack of Bedouin fever. He 
called it rheumatism. But as he had recently hung a 
number of Bedouins, and their friends had sworn to have 
his blood, and as no steamer was at hand to tow his boat 
up to Es Siout, it was manifest that he did not dare to 
sail up the river on his dahabieh, and was laid up ac- 
cordingly. 

I found him in a quilted room. The walls were covered 
with quilted silk. No breath of air could blow through 
it. I sat a couple of hours with him, smoking a chibouk, 
of which the mouth-piece was amber with seven grand 
pearls around it, each one round, creamy, and worth a 
duchy. 

He is, as I before remarked, one of the finest looking men 
I have ever seen. But he has a terrible reputation. He 
has hung more than a hundred and fifty men within twenty- 
four months, without law or form of trial, contrary to the 
statutes in such cases made, but confident of Said Pasha's 
approval. At Es Siout he never sleeps in the palace on 
shore. He dare not trust himself there ; but always 
sleeps in his boat, lying outside a steamer, over which 
any attack from the land must be made, while he has am- 
ple force to beat oif any pirates on the water. 

He has much of the Ibrahim Pasha style about him ; 
and nothing more delights him than the order to destroy 
a village. I inquired what was the meaning of the great 
collection of soldiers in the streets that day, and he re- 
plied, smiling quietly, that he was sending up to burn the 
villages at Beni Hassan. The people had gotten such a 
bad character that nothing short of extermination would 
answer. 

I was often reminded by his conversation of the stories 
of Mohammed Defterdar, who cut a slave's head ofi* as 



A MORNING ROW. 443 

coolly as he would carve a chicken. Such occurrences 
are not unknown in Egypt even in this day. While I 
was in Cairo, Said Pasha gave Mohammed Bey, chief of 
police, seven days in which to catch a murderer ; and 
when the eighth day came, and he was not caught, Mo- 
hammed Bey missed his head. 

We left Minieh at noon, and made a tremendous run 
to Sakkara, where we arrived at evening of the next day. 
The pyramids of Sakkara are of little interest ; but it was 
our desire to visit the tomb of Apis, recently opened by 
M. Mariot, and we paused for this. 

The sun came up over the eastern hills, now known as 
Mokattam {Jiewti) range, because of the vast quarries 
which are among them, whence the pyramids were dug 
out. We awoke early, and found that a steamer had ar- 
rived in the night, and been laid up close by us. 

The usual morning row on shore was greater than was 
common ; and I hastened out to find Abd-el-Atti in a fu- 
rious combat with an Italian gentleman, one of the party 
on the steamer. It appeared that the former, knowing 
the difficulty of obtaining donkeys at or near Sakkara, 
had dropped a man on shore five miles above, and directed 
him to find the necessary animals, and have them at the 
boat by daylight. The Italian gentleman had captured 
one of these useful vehicles, which, of course, was our es- 
pecial j^roperty; and Abd-el-Atti had captured him in the 
very act of beating the donkey-boy, who insisted on being 
allowed to go to his rightful owner. Thereupon the 
dragoman, who recognized no superior in the world, ex- 
cept his employer and the government, " pitched into" 
the Roman with astonishing bravery; and the latter, 
overwhelmed by the suddenness of the onset, shouted 
for help. The steamer's crew hastened to the rescue, and 
the crew of the Phantom flew to the aid of their com- 
mander. Then ensued a combat that Homer's ghost re- 



444 AN ITALIAN OVERTHROWN. 

gretted the impossibility of describing to mortal ears; 
and in the midst of it I rushed in on the battle and 
shouted a parley. 

Seated on the bank above the steamer, in the simplest 
of costumes, a shirt open at the neck and a pair of brown 
linen trowsers, I held one of my extemporaneous courts. 
The southern European demanded justice on the Egypt- 
ian who had dared attack him. The Egyptian was silent, 
not precisely knowing what course his master would take 
in the premises. I have already remarked on the state 
of law in Egypt which entirely prevents the punishment 
of an offending foreigner, and which makes it very dan- 
gerous for a native to insult or injure a howajji. The 
Italian gentleman was furious in his denunciation, but 
fortunately Abd-el-Atti could understand him, and when 
he was somewhat out of breath I demanded an explana- 
tion of his side of the case. He gave it with suppressed 
rage, but with remarkable outward coolness, while the 
Italian interrupted him often with abusive language, and 
demanded that I should have him bastinadoed, bow- 
stringed, or hung, then and there, for laying hands on 
him. When I learned the donkey story I began to un- 
derstand the case, and as this was my quarrel I demanded 
if he had attempted to steal one of my donkeys in that 
manner. He replied that he had as much right to the 
donkey as I. I retorted that I was glad he was thrashed, 
and only regretted he had not received more of it, and 
then he sprang forward. 

Before I could move, Abd-el-Atti had him by the roll 
of his vest, and for a moment they clinched in excellent 
style ; then he backed him slowly toward the boat, and 
when the distance was correct, sent him flying over the 
toe of his slipper into the shallow mud and water at the 
edge of the Nile, a result that was received with loud 
shouts by four or five English or American gentleman 




SESOSTRIS FALLEN. 445 

who had been watching the entire fray from the deck of 
the steamer, and an emphatic tieb ! tieh ! from me. This 
desirable accomplishment effected, I went on board and 
dressed for breakfast. 

The route to the Pyramids of Sakkara was through 
fields of corn, and grain, and glorious palm groves that 
grow on the site of ancient Memphis. At the village of 
Mitrahenny we paused among excavations made by va- 
rious exploring expeditions, and looked at _ ^ 
the statue of Remeses lying prostrate in the 
water, with his face downward, half-buried in 
the soil. This is one of the colossal statues, 
like those at Abou Simbal and on the plain of 
Thebes, bearing the names of kings and recording their 
kingly thoughts. This bears the name of Remeses. 

These colossal statues are something more than masses 
of stone. I remember once meeting with an eminent 
artist in Rome who laughed at the idea of admiring an 
Egyptian statue, devoid of form or comeliness, a huge, 
rough hewn mass of stone. But I am not altogether cer- 
tain that the idea of hewing a mountain into a statue of 
Alexander was not a greater thought than the conception 
of the Venus de Medici, or the Apollo of the Apollos. 

Our route was necessarily circuitous, on account of the 
Nile canals that intercept the plain in all directions. We 
met the large majority of the steamer party returning as 
we approached the pyramids, and, enquiring what treat- 
ment they received at the tomb of Apis, found that they 
had been subjected to a heavy tax by way of entrance 
fee. Pausing awhile to look at the pyramid, which is 
small as compared with Cheops, but large enough to be 
a wonder of the world, we pressed on over the sand hills, 
among hundreds of open tombs, to the great object of 
our visit. 

We had been told that this tomb was in possession of 



446 TOMB OF APIS. 

a tribe of the worst Arabs in the neighborhood of the 
pyramids, and that was saying much, for they are by far 
the hardest wretches hereabout that are to be found in 
Arabia or Egypt. Knowing that the tomb was regarded 
as specially interesting, more so than almost any thing 
near Cairo, they had taken possession of it, and de- 
manded two dollars from every visitor as a fee for enter- 
ing. Travelers usually go to this place soon after their 
arrival in Egypt, and before familiarity with the natives 
has bred that contempt which it soon does. We were by 
this time tolerably familiar with the debased Arabs of 
the Egyptian frontier, who are neither noble as the 
desert Bedouins, nor fearful of insulting travelers as are 
the fellaheen of the Nile valley. 

When we reached the entrance to the tomb, in a hol- 
low of the desert sand hills, west of the pyramids, we 
found it walled up with stone, although it was not 
thirty minutes since gentlemen had come out. Some fifty 
Arabs stood near, and a loud shout for bucksheesh was 
the immediate demand. I j^aid no attention to them, but 
advanced directly to the entrance and commenced throw- 
ing down the stone wall. To loud shouts ot "Stop, 
stop !" from fifty throats, I paid no attention, and mean- 
while the ladies were dismounting close by me. We 
were four, Trumbull and myself, Abd-el-Atti and Moham- 
med Hassan, in this crowd of screaming devils — human 
they did not appear. I was continuing my work with 
my back to the noisy crowd, while Trumbull and Abd-el- 
Atti were keeping them off, when the sheik suddenly 
sprang at me and seized me by the shoulder over-rudely. 
He had not time to say one " Allah !" before my fingers 
were twisted in the neck-band of his shirt, my knuckles 
buried in his wind-pipe, and an ugly-looking volcanic pis- 
tol at the side of his head. 

I backed him ten paces, and his retainers fell away be- 



A GUARD. 447 

hind him. Then I shook him off, and talked a Httle to 
him. The substance of my remarks was a warning 
against touching with unholy hands the shoulder of one 
who could throw him over the Nile into the Ked Sea. 
Physical strength, of which I had sufficient for my pur- 
poses, intimidates the effeminate fellows, and the muzzle 
of a pistol is a dry hint that they are quick to take. I 
drew a line on the sand, twenty feet from the mouth of 
the cave, and told them that any man who came over 
that line should be shot on the spot. Giving Mohammed 
Hassan my fowling-piece, I seated him at one end of the 
line, where he commanded it, with orders to obey my in- 
structions to the letter. 

This done, we entered the cave. In its A^ast halls we 
found, what the successful Frenchman had found before, 
twenty-three great sarcophagi of polished basalt, in each 
of which had been a bull, such as Americans may see in 
Dr. Abbott's museum in New York. The dead apis was 
buried here in solemn state in those days when the Egyp- 
tians made him their God. The gloom of the long halls, 
the splendid coffins standing each in its arched niche, 
robbed indeed of all their distinctive marks — for M. 
Mariot has carefully concealed all his hieroglyphical dis- 
coveries in this tomb — the silence and awful solemnity of 
the place made it one of the most profoundly interesting 
that I had visited in Egyj^t. 

When we came out, after an hour in the vast halls of 
this great tomb, we found Mohammed Hassan seated in 
the spot where I had left him, and the front row of Arabs 
on their haunches in the sand on the safe side of the line, 
while a hundred more stood, growling and furious, but 
cowards all, behind. We mounted and rode away, leav- 
ing them to fleece the next traveler wha may be foolish 
enough to submit to their imposition. 

Let the reader understand that these were not desert 



448 SEIZING SOLDIERS. 

Bedouins. I confess freely that I am too much of a 
coward to touch with ray own hands a free, uncontam- 
inated Bedouin of the desert, surrounded by his tribe. 

We had directed the boat to drop down the river a 
few miles, and we returned from Sakkara ])y another 
route, stopping only a little while to examine the Ibis 
mummy pits. There are several of these open, contain- 
ing many thousand of the sacred birds. Each bird is 
wrapped carefully in cloths, and enclosed in an earthen 
jar, which is closed and sealed tight. The jars are piled 
on each other in cords, filling the chambers to the roof. 
We pulled out hundreds of them, all alike in shape and 
contents. 

There was a Avild cry ringing through the palm groves 
as we came down on the level land. The soldiers of Said 
Pasha were ' abroad, impressing boys for the army, and 
had caught not a few among the villages on the plain. 
Their mothers and sisters were rending the air with wails 
of sorrow, for the parting was, as they well knew, likely 
to be final. 

We approached the boat, and found her surrounded by 
two thousand soldiers, looking curiously into the win- 
dows, or down on her from the banks, but kept from in- 
truding by Ferrajj who stood manfully at the plank, for- 
bidding entrance to one and all, ofiicer and i^rivate. It 
was sunset, and at the short twilight we dropped down 
to Ghizeh. Cairo, especially the lofty citadel and the 
mosk of Mohammed Ali, was before us, gleaming in the 
last rays of the western sun. On both sides of the river 
the banks were covered with soldiers, the viceroy hav- 
ing some fifteen thousand under arms in the neighbor- 
hood. 

Ghizeh, as the reader already knows, is opposite to old 
Cairo, which is two miles from the walls of modern Cairo 
the grand. The pyramids are some six miles from the 



DESOLATE PLACES. 449 

river, as are those at Sakkara. We laid the boat up at 
the shore of the village of Ghizeh, whence we designed 
making our excursions to the pyramids, preferring our 
floating home to the hotel at Cairo, which would have 
made a longer ride necessary every day both morning 
and evening, beside ending our pleasant life in the 
PhaMora. 

The pyramids and sphinx are old acquaintances to all 
readers of books of travel, history, pliilosophy, and relig- 
ion. They have done service by way of illustration so 
many thousand years, that they seem old friends even to 
those who have not seen them face to rock. 

It has been often said that they are not mentioned in 
the sacred Scriptures. It is indeed somewhat surprising 
that they are so seldom alluded to, but I can not think 
they are entirely omitted. 

Moses, we suppose, wrote the book of Job. The great 
lawgiver was born and educated under the shadow of 
Cheops, and I have no doubt had those vast tombs in his 
mind when he placed in the mouth of Job, wishing for 
death, that expression — " Then had I been at rest, with 
kings and counsellors of the earth who built desolate 
places for themselves.'^'' 

I shall not devote any space in this volume to a de- 
scription of the pyramids, already familiar to every intel- 
ligent reader. 

At the first moment of reaching them we were Fir- 
rounded, as travelers usually are, by scores of Arabs, 
demanding large pay to be employed as guides and as- 
sistants. But we were old hands at thrashing off the 
fellaheen Arabs, and our koorbashes, Avhistling over their 
shoulders, made open space around and largely dimin- 
ished their expectations, as well as reduced their nominal 
prices. 

How we, Miriam and myself, ascended Cheops and 



450 CHEOPS. 

looked back, up the lordly river, and uj) the river of time 
as well, for there is no sj^ot on earth from which man can 
see so far into the past as from that same summit of 
Cheops, how we descended and entered the heart of the 
stone pile, with a crowd of vociferating Arabs, and how, 
when they had us in the king's chamber by the sarcopha- 
gus, tliey sought to frighten us as they had other howajjis, 
but woke up the wrong 23assengers, if I may use an Amer- 
icanism, and how the whistling koorbashes made the 
atmosphere more clear and the darkness less noisy, how 
we sat down under the shadow of the sphinx and gazed 
at his stony countenance, whose calm, almost ineffable 
smile, seems, among the shifting sands and rifled tombs, 
now too sneering for a smile, and now too soft, and sad, 
and mournful for a sneer, how we looked into a hundred 
vacant resting-places of the old dead, and pondered much 
on the power of time and the oblivion Avith which age 
wraps nations, as with a grave-cloth and a grave, out of 
which their voices come in sci^ulchral tones ; how, at 
length we climbed CheoiDS once more and swept our eyes 
over the plain, and up the Nile, and far away over the 
Libyan desert to the dim horizon that seemed as distant 
as the days of Moses — all this he who would know more 
of, must seek in the books of other travelers, since we did 
but as they. 

It was the last night on the Phantom. We pushed 
out into the river in the evening, and went drifting down 
by the island of Rhoda, and at length reached the bank 
at Boulak, where we had set sail in November previous. 
The moon was not now on the river, but the night was 
starry and calm, and divinely beautiful. No sounds an- 
nounced our approach to a great city. All was still, 
quiet, profoundly silent. The lapse of the river among 
the boats along the shore was but audible silence, so 
softly musical was it, and every thing conspired to sad- 



WE LEAVE THE PHANTOM. 451 

den lis on this last evening of our Nile life. I have never 
felt more regret at leaving a temporary home. We clung 
to it with the utmost affection. To-morrow we would be 
no longer in our own house. Hereafter, wanderers once 
more, at the mercy of hotels and unknown servants, we 
could not be willing to go. 

Hajji Mohammed won my heart, finally and forever, 
that night, by a dinner that Apicius might have died 
over. Every thing was perfect — magnificent. We sat 
long over the wine, and then, on deck, in the soft air, and 
then — slept. 

Dire was the confusion that awoke us in the morning. 
A livelier port than Boulak the world . can not show. 
Thousands of voices, in a dozen languages, rent the air, 
and when the sound at length overpowered my sleepy 
faculties, I sprang up, astonished at finding myself once 
more in the world of active, business men. 

A carriage was waiting for the ladies, but Mohammed 
Olan, and Barikat, and Achmet were on board with their 
donkeys, and a thousand stories of what had happened 
since we left Cairo, and we mounted the old animals, as 
one bestrides his own favorite horse at home, and cantered 
up the avenues of sont and lebbek, to the Ezbekieh gate 
and Williams's hotel, where our rooms were awaiting us. 



ifi. 

They were a fortniglit of keen delight those last two 
weeks m Cairo. There was much that was home-like in 
coming back to a city in which we had passed a month 
of the previous autumn, and the heavy discounts of the 
bankers were not enough to spoil the pleasure with which 
you talked with them and allowed yourself to be shaved 
in true western, Wall-street style. Drafts on England 
cost only five per cent., and it was worth that to sign your 
name in respectable chirography, instead of dirtying your 
fingers with your seal-ring and India ink as I had been 
doing for some months, Avhenever a paper required my 
hand. 

It was pleasant to meet the same faces in the mouski 
shops and m the Turkish bazaars, to ride along the shad- 
dowy streets and be greeted by some old Turk who had 
cheated you outrageously last fall, with a jovial — as jovial 
as the guttural would permit — " Good-morning, Braheem 
Effendi." 

It was even gratifying to see the same beggars, and 
when I sat under the shadow of the lebbek-trees in the 
Ezbekieh and smoked calmly while Abd-el-Atti and Hajji 
Mohammed were putting up and taking down tents for 
my examination, preparatory to our Syrian journey, to be 
interrupted by the same blind boy and old woman that I 



BUCKSHEESH. 453 

administered copper to some months ago, with the same 
"Backsheesh Ya Howajji." 

It is useless to resist the impression that this demand 
for bucksheesh is instinctive in the Arab character. It is 
the first word which children utter. That I am con- 
vinced of. It is the last on the lips of the dying man, if 
the vision of a foreigner crosses his failing sight. Dr. 
Abbott vouches for the fact that he attended an Arab 
in a long and severe fit of illness and cured him. When 
the man was well he called on the doctor, as the worthy 
physician supposed for the purpose of expressing his grati- 
tude for visits that had been regular twice a day for a 
month. That he had nothing but gratitude to give, the 
doctor well knew. 

" I am well," said the man. 

" Yes — I am glad to see it — you are well." 

" I am well," repeated the Arab. 

" Yes, so I see. Thank God for it," said the doctor. 

" Yes — but — isn't there any thing more ? You see I 
am well." 

" Certainly I see you are well, and you have had a hard 
time of it. Go to work now and keep well." 

" But isn't there any thing more ?" 

" More — more — what more ?" 

"- BucksheeshP' 

" For what ?" 

" For the experience you have had in curing me !" 

" I had cured him for nothing and paid for his medi- 
cines, and the dog came to me for bucksheesh .-'" said the 
doctor. 

Nor was this a solitary instance in his practice. 

There are some places in and around Cairo which, you 
Avill not need to be told, I revisited with new delight. 
There are places in which it seems to me now I would be 
content to doze away a life-time. 



454 TOBACCO AND KIEF. 

First of all I sought out my old friend Suleiman in the 
bazaars within the chains. He welcomed me with a " sa- 
laam aleikoum," an honor forbidden to be wasted on a 
Christian and so much the more to be prized. Seated on 
his shop-front with the same chibouk, the same tiny cups 
of coffee, the same calm old eyes looking into mine, I 
could not believe that even a week had elapsed since I was 
last there and that I had meantime been far beyond the 
barriers of Syene. 

The blue smoke curled up in the lofty aisle of the 
bazaars, and the soft sunshine stole in on it and lit it up 
in graceful forms that floated before me as I sat and 
dreamed. There were outlines of fair and gentle persons 
in the solemn air, delicate outlines of rare beauty. There 
were blue eyes gazing out of indescribable distances on 
me (how well I knew those eyes of blue !) There were a 
hundred shapes and shades in the air above and around 
me. I could have rested there a century in that delicious 
kief, that no man may know in any other spot on earth. 

I khow what it is to lie down on the desert sand in the 
sunshine when the air is cool and lifegiving, and the sun- 
shine warm and heavenly. I know what it is to swing in 
my hammock on a long sea, with the breeze well off on 
the quarter and home right in on the lee bow. I have 
smoked Tombak in silver narghilehs in the kiosks of Da- 
mascus, and Stamboul tobacco by the sunny side of the 
tomb of Sultan Mahmoud in Constantinople. I have 
drank lager-bier with the stoutest of Prussians in Prussia, 
have sipped golden Ivourne and flavored it with the 
pleasantest of Swiss tobacco in the Alpine valleys ; I have 
— I have smoked tobacco everywhere that my wander- 
ings in many years have led me, many kinds and flavors 
thereof I know, and I have loafed, and lounged, and 
dreamed, and slept in very many lands. But there is no 
spot on all the world's surface to which I look back with 



SELIM PASHA'S LOVE. 455 

a memory of sucli perfect calm delight, such undisturbed 
repose of mind and body as the shop-front of Suleiman 
Effendi in the bazaar within the chains in Cairo the Vic- 
torious. 

Seated there one afternoon, I saw old Selim Pasha stalk 
by followed by his retainers, and by diligent questioning 
I got from Suleiman enough to confirm a story I had be- 
fore heard, on what I supposed good authority. It is 
very difficult to persuade a Mussulman to repeat a story 
of his neighbor's wives. Scarcely ever, indeed, is a female 
name mentioned by their lips. In fact, not in one instance 
in a hundred does a man know the names of his most in- 
timate friend's wives, or any of them. The hareem is a 
forbidden subject of conversation under all circumstances, 
and to ask a Moslem if his wife is well would be insulting 
and unpardonable. 

The romance of the hareem is well-nigh ended forever. 
But once in a while a true history comes out with start- 
ling effect, as its incidents become known, and we begin 
to fancy the days of the Arabian Nights not wholly gone. 
Such is this story of Selim Pasha, governor of Upper 
Egypt under Mohammed Ali. 

He was a Circassian slave, in high favor under that 
great prince. Young, noble, ardent, and brave, he won 
the affection of his master and lord, and was always near 
his heart. Well he might be. No hand was so cunning 
with the sword, so firm on the rein, so steadfast in the 
battle. No foot was so strong in the stirrup, so swift to 
do his master's will, so constant at the palace door. Step 
by step he rose, as slaves often rise in the East, from his 
low estate to honor, wealth, and fame. Still he was young, 
and still unmarried. Whether in the restless dream of 
his ambition, for he was ambitious, there were ever min- 
gled memories of his mountain home and the beloved 
ones of his infant years, whether in the battle under the 



466 SELIM PASHA'S LOVE. 

pyramids he heard the voice of his mother as he had 
heard it in far-off Circassia, calling him back to a peace- 
ful home, whether in the desert fray, when the sun was 
hot on his head, and the faint blood lay heavy in his 
heart, he remembered the cool breezes that used to steal 
down from the snow-capped mountains, and the delicious 
streams that murmured at his feet in long gone years, 
none may tell now. I have sometimes thought that even 
now, when he is old and gray and passes feebly along the 
streets of Cairo, surrounded by his hordes of attendants, 
those memories must haunt him with fearful power. 

He had never loved. The old viceroy was of a gentle 
turn of mind occasionally, and he bethought him to make 
Sclim's home a happier one. He knew a young and 
strangely beautiful woman, who would be worth his 
loving. True, she had lain in his own arms, and was his 
slave ; but his embraces were forced. She did not love 
him, and oriental custom permitted and sanctioned the 
giving her to his slave Selim as his wife. Her fame had 
already reached his ears, and he had sometimes wished to 
see her. She had seen him. Had watched from the lat- 
tices when he came and went, had waved unknown, un- 
counted kisses to the splendid soldier, the young and 
noble slave. It was a moment of untold joy to her when 
she learned that she was free from the hated embraces of 
the old pasha, and was to be the wife of Selim. He was 
her iirst and only love. 

Love is not here what men call love in cold western 
climates. This is the land where love climbs turrets, 
scales fortresses, swims rivers, destroys cities. This is the 
land of Helen and Cleopatra. 

Great was the rejoicing in Cairo the Beautiful, when the 
wedding was announced, and great the preparation for its 
celebration. Selim was most glad of all. From a hun- 
dred directions came tales of the beauty and loveliness of 



SELIM PASHA'S LOVE. 457 

his proniiscd bride, for although no men's eyes ever saw 
her lace, it was not difiicult through other men's wives to 
hear every line of her features described, and, though all 
this was fifty years ago, there are many whom I have seen 
who remember the splendor of that beauty as described 
by those who had seen it. She was of the rare mould of 
the eastern Yen us, a worthy representative of Helen the 
beautiful. She was not tall, but exquisitely formed, her 
limbs the very soul of grace, her eyes wells of love and 
glory, her lips the ruby portals of maddening kisses. 
Alas, how a half century has changed the beauty of Hafiza 
the beloved ! 

He could not see her face till she was his own. Such 
is the eastern custom. The man knows nothing of the 
features of his bride until she is shut up in his house and 
left to his care and love. That is a fearful moment for 
the wife when her features are for the first time exposed 
to his gaze. 

Great were the feasts and magnificent the presents 
which did honor to the nuptials. Mohammed Ali loaded 
them with his bounty, and Cairo rang with music, laugh- 
ter, and song, from the citadel to the gate of the Ezbe- 
kieh, as the procession marched in state from the royal 
residence to the palace of Selim, where he waited her 
coming. 

They w^ere alone together, and he knelt before her and 
with trembling hands threw back the vail that hid her 
from his eager gaze. 

He had not dreamed of it, it was so gloriously beauti- 
ful. Her forehead w^as white as the forehead he saw 
when he did dream of his mother, and her eyes were 
bluer and deeper than the sky of Araby the Blessed. 
The brown hair rolled back like a river of jewels from 
her splendid head, and her lips Avere — he thought not of 
her lips an instant after they had whispered " Selim, my 

20 



458 SELiM pasha's love. 

beloved," and she lay close against his breast and wept 
the life of her joy out on his heart. 

What strange thrill was that that shot through his 
brain when she sjDoke, and made him clasp her closer to 
his breast ? It was a voice he had heard in all his 
dreams. It was a voice he had loved in all his wander- 
ings. Doubtless it was the prophet's goodness that had 
permitted him to hear her speak who was to be his wife, 
though he did not know it then. 

But what was there in that blue eye that so bewildered 
him. Had he seen her in dreams as well as heard her 
voice ? 

They spoke of all the j^ast and tried to open u]) the 
vistas of their early years, each to the other's gaze. 

She was from Circassia. 

And he ! 

She remembered her home. It was in a valley of the 
fairest part of that land and a stream of water flowed 
down by the door and dashed over rocks a hundred yards 
below. 

How like his boyhood's home ! 

]Jl»J"ever had the names of familiar places seemed to him 
so musical as they now sounded from her lips. 

But w^hen she named her father he sprang to his feet, 
and at her mother's name he called on Allah ! 

Like a flood swept over hun the terrible discovery. 
He seized her in his arms, tore from her bosom the cov- 
ering that concealed a mark he remembered in childhood, 
and thrust her from him with a cry of anguish. 

She was his sister ! 

Selim Pasha sought service in a distant field and lived 
to be an old man, and withal to become a tyrant. His 
sister married another man, and is still resident in Cairo, 
where Selim Pasha also resides since he ceased to be gov- 
ernor of Upper Egypt. 



POVERTY. 459 

The story is fully credited in Cairo, and there is no 
i-eason to doubt its correctness. I give it on the faith of 
the shop-front of Suleiman Eifendi in the bazaars within 
the chains. 

There was another spot, outside the walls of Cairo, to 
which I was accustomed to resort with Miriam in the af- 
ternoons, to watch the sunset beyond the pyramids. 
There, on the last evening of our stay in Cairo, we rode 
with Whitely, who had now joined us. 

It is a high hill of pottery, on the north side of the city, 
commanding the desert eastward, as well as the Nile 
valley. 

Forever, in this miserable land, you are interrupted in 
your holiest thoughts by something that drives sentiment 
to the winds. If yon see a fine marble, a splendid col- 
nmn, lying in the dust, a stone covered with hieroglyphics, 
or any thing on which your eye rests with interest, it is 
certain that before your thoughts are fairly in the train 
you wish, some Arab woman will be sitting on it, with a 
girl kneeling before her, while she investigates the con- 
tents of her bushy hair with her fingers. In the most 
splendid mosks you see the most filthy persons ; and 
even in the gorgeous mosk of Mohammed Ali, where 
silver itself seems out of place, half-naked and vilely dirty 
Arabs lounge in and out with curious eyes, making the 
air foul with their presence. The miserable, abject, 
wretched appearance of nine tenths of the population of 
Egypt beggars description. Clothing they have almost 
none, and such as they have but adds to the misery of 
their looks. 

I saw a man bathing near the base of the hill. When 
he came from the w^ater and took up his solitary garment 
to put it on it was ludicrous to see his perplexity. Some- 
Avhere in it there was, or had been, a hole, intended to 
admit of the passage of his head, but he could not find it 



460 RICH SOIL. 

among tlic others. He tried it once, and it went through 
tlio wrong place. lie tried it again witli no better suc- 
cess. I left him trying it. I doubt Avhether he ever suc- 
ceeded. 

The brief twilight hastened along. The camel-train 
from Suez came more rapidly, b\it its end stretched far 
away toward the desert. On the western horizon the 
inajestic outlines of the j^yramids broke the line ; Ceph- 
renes, as always, looking over Cheops. 

1^ had devoted much time that day to a task set for 
myself in Cairo — seeking some memorial of the burial- 
place of John Ledyard, the American traveler, I knew 
only that he died in a convent ; and in my former visit I 
had inquired at all the convents, but utterly i<? vain. No 
records, no books, notes, minutes — nothing remained of 
liim. I found an old man, one about old enough to have 
been there when he died, and I talked with him ; but liis 
wits were wandering, and he was of no use to me. 

It was only left to me to stand, as on this hill, and sweep 
my eyes around the city walls, and know that of this dust 
his dust formed part. That somewhere beneath the 
changing mounds that stout heart was loosed of all its 
bands. He was a man of noble hope, never-to-be-satislied 
ambition. Lo ! here the end of it all — death among 
strangers, and burial among dogs ! 

I did not heed that evening stole over us, as we sat on 
the mound of broken pottery. Two skulls lay white and 
ghastly in the moonlight, and sundry powerless bones of 
human limbs scattered here and there around us, as if 
do2:s had dras^o-cd them from oraves. 

Probably no soil on the earth's surface has been so often 
made over in the image of God as this same soil of Egypt; 
and that has sanctified it. It is this that makes hallowed 
ground. It is not because Abraham was here ; not be- 
cause old Israel was here; not because the Pharaohs 



A FANCY. 401 

shook off this clay from their sandals ; not because Solon, 
Plato, Aristotle, Herodotus, or a hundred other philoso- 
phers and historians have walked along these banks ; not 
even because Mary and her holy Child sat under the shade 
of the trees of the valley. Not for any one, nor all these 
things that I honor and love it. 

"Why then?" said Miriam; and for the first time I 
knew that I had been thinkino; aloud. 

" Listen, my child, and I will tell you. More than three 
thousand years ago there was a scene just here that you 
have often read of, but perhaps have never before fully 
appreciated. You see that rocky hill, and the desert road 
around its base. You see the camels trcadinii: it with slow 
steps. It is now forty centuries since the grandson of Noah 
broke that path in the sand, and left the first human foot- 
prints on it. It was then, as now, bright sand. The foot 
of Misraim sank deep in it. That rock was then as brown 
and red as now, and the shadow fell in the morning on 
the shore of the great river as it fell to-day. Then the 
pathway was worn ; and year by year, and century by 
century, the sand grew hard under frequent footsteps, 
and men by millions had trodden it down. 

"At length there came over that road a caravan, in which 
there were men of stately presence and Avomen of rare 
and glorious beauty. They knew not, the Egyptians 
knew not, the world knew not, that in that procession 
was more of royalty, more of magnificence, more of splen- 
dor, than all the courts of all the Pharaohs could boast, 
though it was but the train of an old and worn man, with 
his sons and their descendants, seeking the face of a lost 
son and brother who had risen to power and position in 
the land of Egypt. They paused yonder at the foot of 
the hill, and waited for messengers from the palace to 
direct their footsteps to a resting-place. Examine them 
more closely. The old man, the father of the three-score 



462 ABRAHAM. 

and ten who surround him, is of kingly presence and 
bearing, his eye looking as it learned to look when he 
once saw heaven open and the angels of God entering its 
brilliant jiortals. His sons were giant men ; every man fit 
to be father of a race of kings. It is of those sons I would 
speak. There was stalwart Judah, the lion of his family ; 
there was the mighty Reuben, and the cruel Simeon ; 
there was the beloved Benjamin ; and, while they w^ait, 
the first lord of Egypt, attended by a royal train, comes 
to meet them, and throws his arms around the old man's 
neck, and kneels before him for his blessing. Yes, the 
air that is so still around us now, that lies so calmly on 
this desert j^lain, has heard the voice of Joseph, and has 
trembled on the lips of Israel. 

*' There is no point in all the history of the race of man 
that possesses to me a more profound interest than this. 
A century before, the altar of Abraham among the oaks 
of Mamre was the only altar on earth erected to the true 
God. And now, while those two embraced, and the group 
gathered closely around them, yonder, on the sand of the 
desert, within the sound of the feeble voice of Jacob, 
stood every man that was living on the face of the earth 
who acknowledged and Avorshiped the God that made it. 

" But it is not this that sanctifies the land to me. Years 
fled apace in those old days, and men lived, loved, and 
died, much as they now do. A century passed away 
after this scene of which I have spoken. The bones of 
Joseph lay waiting the exodus. But, somewhere in this 
dust of the valley of Egypt, somewhere along this narrow 
strip of land, lay the dead dust of Judah, of Levi, of 
Simeon, of Manasseh, and Ephraim, and of the beloved 
Benjamin. Thhik of it. This that I hold in my hand, 
this grain of dust, may have been part and parcel of the 
clay that throbbed against the heart of Joseph ; may have 
grasped the sword of Judah ; may have felt the pressure 



THE WIFE OF MANASSEH. 463 

of the hands of blmd old Jacob. Yes ; this very dust 
may have heard syllabled those sublime prophecies that 
told of the glories of the twelve tribes, and the coming of 
their Lord at last. We will follow some day the dust 
that is not here, and seek it among the flowers of Canaan. 
But, now, I think this delicate mimosa, this tree of rare 
and beautiful foliage, must have sj^rung first from the 
dust of Benjamin, and that stately lebbek may have 
found root over the grave of Simeon. None but a palm 
could crrow of dust that formed the lion-heart of Judah. 
It is this that makes Egypt sacred to me. They are 
somewhere here, all those eleven giant sons of Jacob ; all 
here in the valley, within sound of the cannon from yon- 
der citadel. 

" Nay, more than this. Not alone the fathers of that 
mighty race lie in this soil, but their mothers as well. 
There were fair and beautiful women that lay in the arms 
of those stout men, whose lips were accustomed to their 
caresses, whose arms often enfolded them, on whose fair 
breasts they laid their flowing locks. Somewhere under 
this ground, lies the queenly wife of Joseph ; and some- 
where here the dark-eyed wife of Ephraim. Perhaps they 
are not dust. Perhaps — does it not startle you to think 
of it — perhaps, ten feet below this very spot where we sit, 
stern, solemn, calm, as in his life, four thousand years 
ago, lies the tall form and massive arm of Judah ; his 
features set in that last long gaze with which he looked 
into the loving eyes of Joseph bending over him. What 
would you give to see that look of love and penitence ?" 

" Let us dig," exclaimed Miriam. 

" Perhaps beneath us lies the fragile form of the young 
maiden that loved Manasseh. I have sometimes thought of 
her, and wondered that no one else had named or thought 
of the mother of Machir. She was — she was — let us im- 
agine it — the daughter of Benjamin, a girl of fair and splen- 



464 JOSEPH AND BENJAMIN. 

did beauty. In the long moonlight nights of Egypt, the 
liglit of yonder moon, that rests now on the Mokattam 
liills, Joseph and his brother walked together and looked at 
the erags of that same hill, and the elder told the younger 
of the beauty and majesty of their queenly mother, whom 
Benjamhi never knew, and of her gentleness; and how, in 
her young girlhood, a shepherdess on the plains of the 
East, she won their father's heart ; and how old Jacob, in 
his age, was yet Avilling to serve her father seven years 
of his life for the love he bare her, that made the years 
seem but as days ; and how, in her glad beauty, she was 
like — so very like — to Rachel, his own beloved daughter, 
that was in the grove behind them ; and then, to see his 
mother once again, to look into her dear eyes again, to 
think himself not now the lord of Egypt, but the boy 
of Canaan, he called to him the daughter of his brother, 
and she came, closely followed by Manasseh, and he 
looked into her black fathomless eyes, and took her hands 
in his, and as he sat by the fountain, looked up at her 
tall, slender form and speaking face, and fancied that lie 
saw the dawn that always shone on the brow of his dead 
mother. AVhen she looked thus, he knew that it was 
love of him that shone on her forehead from her radiant 
eyes ; but whom could this child love ? 

" ' Thou hast never loved yet, Rachel ?' 

" ' I love Manasseh.' 

" No simpler story could be told ; none more full of 
meaning. The brothers smiled each in the other's eyes, 
and so it was all settled, and they letl the young lovers 
in the grove, and the moon went onward from the Mo- 
kattam lulls to the pyramids. 

" It was a royal wedding. Never was such before or 
since in Egypt, as that when Joseph's son married the 
daughter of Benjamin. Doubtless, as now, they made 
processions in the streets, and there was much of pomj) 



ONE WHO 8AW MOSES. 



405 



and ceremony, and tlie pyramids and the eastern hills 
were lit with the blaze of beacons, that told all Egypt, 
from Elephantine to the sea, that their lord and benefactor 
rejoiced in his palace. Perhaps she slumbers here ! Who 
knows liow near us are the beloved features that wear in 
death the look that Rachel wore when she closed her 
dark eyes at Bethlehem. 

"Laugh who will, but this is no land for laughing at even 
these imaginations. Your veriest skeptic in antiquity 
stands respectully before the doors of modern tombs that 
are opened here, and admits the reckoning of forty cen- 
turies, while the stoutest arguments of infidelity arc 
directed, not at the supposed antiquity of the remains 
we have found here, but at their vmnt of antiquity. No 
man disputes that they are at least four thousand years 
old. The only other claim is that they arc nearer forty 
thousand. It is well known that mummies have been 
taken from the tombs of the valley that must ante-date 
the Exodus. There is one standing in the collection of 
Dr. Abbott, in New York, that is of the period of Moses 
and Aaron — a woman who, from her princely titles, may 
well have been one who had seen the great lawgiver, 
and had stood by the bones of Joseph. Why then 
doubt that in some great tomb under this ground, in 
some mighty room built by the servants of Joseph, some 
cavernous sepulchre whose arches arc on granite columns 
set in the solid rock, stand, side by side, eleven grand 
sarcophagi, carved with the names that the high priest 
of the temple wore on his ephod, and in them, man by 
man, waiting in solemn silence the voice of Joseph and 
the angel, lie .Tudah and his brethren ! 

I am aware that some persons, reasoning from a pas- 
sage in the seventh chapter of Acts, hold that the twelve 
sons of Jacob were brought up into Canaan by the 
Israelites when they brought up the bones of Joscy)h. 



466 Joseph's brethren. 

It is certainly very improbable that Moses would omit 
such an important item in his history of the pilgrimage, 
when he carefully speaks of the body of Joseph and 
its fate. In Exodus xiii. 19, the reason for removing 
Joseph is given as the oath he had himself required, and 
certainly had his brethren been removed their translation 
would here be alluded to. 

The passage in Acts is not historical, nor intended to 
be so, for it is manifestly incorrect in other respects. 

" So Jacob w^ent down into Egypt and died, he and 
our fathers, and were carried over into Sychem, and laid 
in the sepulchre that Abraham bought for a sum of 
money of the sons of Emmor, the father of Sychem." 

Jacob was not carried over into Sychem, nor did 
Abraham buy the sepulchre. There is probably an in- 
terpolation here, or some error m the early copies of 
Luke's manuscript. No tradition now exists at or near 
Sychem that the patriarchs were buried there. A learned 
Jewish Rabbi, to whom I have lately mentioned the sub- 
ject, tells me that he has no idea that the patriarchs, 
other than Joseph, were ever removed from Egypt. 

I have already wandered on beyond what I said in my 
preachment to Miriam and Whitely, and the curious gap- 
ing donkey-boys, w^ho seemed to be overpowered by the 
unexpected eloquence of Howajji Braheem. 

From the far past to the far future, the change of 
thought is necessarily instantaneous. The mind rests 
with intense interest on a point in that future, which is 
the only one that human foresight can with any certainty 
fix — I mean the day when God shall summon up the dead 
of this valley to stand among the living of the resurrec- 
tion. What an awakening will that be! I know 
no spot on all the surface of the earth where the scene 
will be like this. The followers of the prophet, the 
swarthy Bedouins, the black Nubians, the bearded Turks, 



THE HOLY LAND. 



46' 



and the pale Circassians — millions on millions will rise 
from this dust which contains their generations for a 
thousand years, and start in horror to find the places 
from which, in their proud self-religion, they drove all 
other creeds as false and infidel, already occupied, crowd- 
ed, and overflowing with the men of Memphis and an- 
cient On! The men of the Pharaohs will see amonc: 
their dark-browed host a few tall forms and calm faces 
uplifted to the heavens, and will be awed to silence at the 
majestic appearance of the men they trampled on and 
despised. The very sand of the desert will spring to 
life. If it could but now do so ! If the lips that are dust 
here now under my feet would but syllable words ! 

At length ray arrangements were complete. The tents 
were pronounced perfect. The same servants enlisted for 
a Syrian journey, and I sent them with the heavy lug- 
gage to Alexandria, where I overtook them the next day. 
A week after that, our camp shone in the white moon- 
light on the shore outside the walls of Joppa, and I be- 
gan my TENT LIFE IN THE HOLY LAND. 




APPENDIX. 



A. 

A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY, RELIGION, 

AND WRITTEN I:ANGUAGE OF 

ANCIENT EGYPT. 

B. 

ADVICE TO TRAVELERS VISITING EGYPT. 



20* 



A. 



SKETCH OF THE HISTORY, EELIGION, AND WRITTEN 
LANGUAGE OF ANCIENT EGYPT. 



I.— HISTORY. 

He who would maintain that any one of the oriental nations is 
older than all others, must be prepared to combat the theories of 
various scholars, supported with an amount of learning, ingenuity, 
and earnestness, sufficient to appall any one but a thorough student 
in eastern languages, hterature, and history. That the Sanscrit is 
the root of aU languages, may seem plausible until a Hindoo scholar 
demolishes our theory, with what is probably very intelligible to 
him, but is all Hindoo to us. That Nineveh was built close by, and 
close after the tower of Babel, is certainly a very probable idea, 
until some learned Brahmin or Chinaman shows you up a city 
that must antedate the creation itself, if Bishop Usher's chronol- 
ogy be correct, and proves his creed thereabouts by a mass of strange 
characters and inscriptions, pages of black letter work and oriental 
roots, sooner than attempt any argument against wliich you, unless 
much set in your opinions, rather yield at once, and admit that it 
must be true, and all that must prove something. 

It is unsafe, therefore to whisper, even privately, to your friend, 
that Egypt is the oldest nation in the world. I tried it once, on 
the quarter-deck of a steamer, in the moonlight of an evening at 
sea, running down the banks. A learned pundit overheard me, 
and knocked me down, in the saloon, an hour afterward, when I 
went below for coffee and a bone, with such an array of Sinaitic 
and Semitic, Cuneiform and no form inscriptions, all which he drew 
on the mahogany with weak black-tea — no sugar in it — and the 
point of a silver fork, and having got me down, there was no let- 



472 HISTORY. 

up till I admitted that Egypt was the youngest of the old nations, 
beyond a doubt, and so got rid of him. 

But Egypt is the father of nations, for all that, and from Egypt 
Greek and European civilization traces its genealogy, nor is it pos- 
sible to show that Egyptian mythology, philosophy, or hfe, had its 
origin in any other nation known to history, or to that geology of 
history, if I may be pardoned the expression, which digs among 
the bones of nations, the accumulated strata of the early years, for 
rehcs of Megatherian nations, or shapes and moulds of extinct 
and unrecorded dynasties and races. 

Chronology is at fault in the years that immediately succeed the 
deluge, and there can be httle doubt that we have erred in our 
commonly-received chronological tables in the space of time which 
followed that event and preceded the descent of Jacob into Egypt. 

Herodotus relates, that the name of the first king of Egypt was 
Menes, and Diodorus also states, that he succeeded the gods and 
heroes who had previously reigned, Herodotus adds, that in his 
reign the whole of Egypt, except the province of Thebes, was a 
marsh, or in other words, that what we call the Delta, was then in 
process of formation. This places the time of that monarch at a 
period long anterior to Abraham. Of course the authority of He- 
rodotus was but the tradition of Egypt, when he was there, about 
B.C. 450, but that was a time when the monumental records were 
read with ease by all the learned men of Egypt, and the story of 
Menes is therefore entitled to more attention than the vague tra- 
ditions of the heroes and the gods who preceded him. 

It has been by some supposed, that Menes was identical with 
Misraim, the grandson of Noah and the son of Ham, to whom 
Egypt fell as an inheritance, and whence it derived a name well 
known in Scripture, and preserved to this day in the Arabic name 
of Cairo, which is Musr. Others have supposed, that Menes, 
which signifies eternal^ was a figurative name, designed originally 
to convey the idea that the race was without beginning, or possi- 
bly that it had its beginning from The Eternal. 

Of the time between Misraim and the arrival of Abraham in 
Egypt, we are almost destitute of any cotemporary record, either 
in Scripture or on stone. 

Colonel Howard Yyse, an energetic Englishman, who, by his 




HISTORY. 4*73 

excavations in 1847, discovered more of value to history in the 
pyramids of Egypt than had been found for two thousand years 
before, in forcing his way through the heart of the great pyramid 
above the king's chamber, and opening room after room, which 
had been left above that chamber to reheve it of the superincum- 
bent weight that would otherwise have rested on its top, found 
the cartouche of Suphis or Cheops scrawled on the rocks, which no 
eye but his had seen since the day they were laid there. 

This scrawl of an idle workman, with red chalk or 
earth, on a stone that he sat on while he ate his onion 
and bread at noon, is a solitary memorial of the grand- 
eur of Cheops, the builder of the pyramid. 

In Dr. Abbott's collection there is a heavy golden 
signet ring, found in a tomb near the pyramid, which 
bears the same cartouche, and is one of the most interesting relics 
of antiquity extant, as possibly having been worn on the royal 
finger of the same Cheops. 

These, and one or two opened tombs near the pyramid, are 
the only monumental confirmations of ancient history wich give 
the name of Cheops as the founder of the great pyramid of 
G-hizeh. 

Colonel Yyse opened also the third pyramid. Herodotus as- 
cribes it to Mycerinus. Colonel Vyse found in it a broken mummy 
case and some bones of a mummy. Fortunately the upper board 
of the case was preserved, and on it in plain characters — hiero- 
glyphic, of course — was the name of this monarch, in connection 
with the usual title given to the Egyptian monarch on the monu- 
ments. The coffin-board and the bones of this monarch lie now 
on a shelf in the British Museum. 

The second pyramid of Ghizeh, next in size to that of Cheops, 
and somewhat higher in fact, from standing on higher ground, 
was built by a monarch variously styled in ancient history Cephren, 
Chemmes, Sensaophis, and Cephrenes. He was a brother of 
Cheops. Mycerinus was the son of Cheops. In the tombs imme- 
diately around the three chief pyramids of G-hizeh the name of 
Cheops and the names of other unknown kings (as yet unde- 
ciphered or untranslated) have been discovered ; while that of My- 
cerinus is found in one of the smaller pyramids not far distant. The 



474 HISTORY. 

other pyramids scattered along the west bank of the Nile are either 
unmarked, or, if containing names, are of unknown date. 

These, then, are the only monuments of the period before Abra- 
ham that we are possessed of, and from these slender materials we 
are left to construct a history of the nation for an indefinite space 
of time. 

Manetho and other ancient historians of Egypt afford us no aid, 
since they give no authority for their stories, and are too often 
contradicted by the existing monuments. 

Of the date, period, and departure from Egypt of the dynasty 
called the Shepherd Kings, we have no other information than this, 
that if such a dynasty did exist, it was in the period we are now 
writinsr of. 

During the period of from four to eight hundred years, Egypt- 
ian power and wealth attained an unexampled height. No nation 
in the world so advanced in the arts and sciences, nor is there any 
known relic of that period, or of any period approaching it, which 
compares with the monuments in the land of Menes. "Whatever, 
therefore, may be asserted of Phoenician or other origin to Egypt- 
ian arts and learning, it is very evident that at a point of time two 
thousand years before Christ no nation in the world rivaled the 
sons of Misraim. 

There is no reason to suppose that at this time the rehgion or 
general condition of the people was materially other than in the 
days of Herodotus, who describes them so minutely. We know 
that they already built temples and worshiped the bull Apis, and 
numerous other gods. But who were the kings of Egypt, save 
only those three whose names we have mentioned, is a secret in 
the unrolled scrolls of history. 

Manetho says that after Menes sixteen kings reigned at This or 
Abydos, and when Tms fell Thebes arose and seventeen kings 
reigned there. 

It is impossible to tell which part of Egypt was first populously 
settled. Herodotus's account of the marshy condition of the Delta 
is not without foundation in reason, for we find the obelisk of 
Heliopolis now deeply imbedded in the ground which has accu- 
mulated around it by the annual deposits of the Nile, and it is not 
unlikely that the remoter and dryer regions of Thebes would be 



HISTORY. 475 

selected as the capital of the country and the residence of the 
kings. 

It is probable that there were at least three different govern- 
ments in Egypt at the same time. One at Memphis or HeliopoUs, 
one at Thebes, and a third at Elephantine, the first cataract. There 
were also minor communities, which were independent, having 
their own sovereigns, as at HeracleopoHs. 

Thus much of the dark ages before Abraham. 

The next endeavor of history is to fix his date. But this can 
be done only by working back from a known point. The monu- 
ments of Egypt are carved with kings' names, and we are able to 
form a tolerably correct list from the time of Osirtasen I. to the 
days of the Csesars. But to find the date of Osirtasen we must 
take that of Shishak, which is already fixed, and go backward. 
Egyptian scholars differ vastly on this chronology, nor is it possible 
to afi&rm who is correct. Sir Gardner Wilkinson, whose reputa- 
tion is certainly not inferior to any, while liis critical skill and im- 
partial mind render him a cooler examiner and more trustworthy 
guide than Lepsius, fixes Osirtasen I. at B.C. 1740, the arrival of 
Abraham in Egypt being at 1920, while Dr. Sharpe and others 
suppose that this obelisk of Heliopolis erected by Osirtasen may 
have been seen by the Father of the Faithful. 

This monarch erected the oldest portion of the temple of Kar- 
nak at Thebes, and from the solitary obelisk which remains at 
Hehopolis it appears probable that he adorned and beautified that 
city, which Abraham, and Jacob, and Joseph visited. Some of 
the tombs at Beni Hassan are certainly as old as his time. From 
this reign we date the oldest existing monuments which are sculp- 
tured, both in the upper and lower country, and it is evident that 
he included all of Egypt in his dominions. It is possible that he 
was the first monarch who united Upper and Lower Egypt, which 
continued at all times afterward to be spoken of as two countries. 
One of the common titles of a Pharaoh was, '' Lord of the Upper 
and Lower Country." 

There are various tablets in Egypt which record the names of 
successive monarchs. On that at Abydos, we find that Osirtasen 
I. was succeeded by Amunmeit-Thor II. (the first of that name 
probably preceded Osirtasen), and by Osirtasen 11. and Osirtasen 



4*76 HISTORY. 

III. Willdnson supposes one of these four monarch?, probably 
Osirtasen I., to be the king whom Jacob saw, and who elevated 
Joseph, The present prevailing opinion among scholars is, that the 
Exodus took place in the reign of Thothmes III., an intermediate 
king, Amosis, being the king " who knew not Joseph." 

It is not the design of this sketch to discuss these chronolpgical 
questions. Already before the Israelites arrived in Egypt the arts 
and sciences had progressed to a great extent, as we have abund- 
ant evidence in the paintings and sculptures of the early tombs. 
Colonel Vyse found an iron instrument in the pyramid of Cheops. 
The granite obeUsk of Osirtasen was beautifully cut. The polygo- 
nal columns which remain, of his portions of Karnak, are elegant 
in design, and evidently suggested the Grecian Doric. The civili- 
zation of families must have been equal to the best days of Rome. 
Articles of luxury, gold and silver ornaments, fine colors and em- 
broideries, all abounded, and it appears^ evident that the splendor 
of life among the wealthy in Egypt, at the time of the captivity, 
was never surpassed, even in the days of Cleopatra. The govern- 
ment was priestly. The king was the high priest. 

Among the kings who reigned during the century immediately 
succeeding the bondage, Amunoph III. is among the most distin- 
guished. He built the great tem^Dlc at Luxor, and erected on the 
plain of Thebes the two colossal statues, one of which became 
vocal in tradition as Memnon. About 1400 b.c, Remeses the Great 
ascended the throne. He was the great monarch of Egypt, tlie 
Sesostris of ancient history. The reader of this volume has al- 
ready observed the number and splendor of his works in the Nile 
valley. He carried the sword into other countries. His temples 
at Thebes and elsewhere are covered with the accounts of his vic- 
tories, the number of his captives, and the valuation of his con- 
quests, while his name is recorded in distaat countries through 
which he marched as a victor. 

The period of Remeses Sesostris has well been styled the Au- 
gustan era of Egypt. The Nile valley was a continuous row of 
prosperous cities, magnificent temples, and royal palaces. The 
arms of the country were every where triumphant ; the arts were 
cultivated and adorned the cities, houses, and most of all the 
tombs; nor is there at tliis remote age an article of household 



HISTORY. • 4*77 

luxury, a fauteull or a cooking utensil, a harp or a set of toys, that 
does not seem to have its counterpart in tlie splendid tomb of this 
monarch, now lying open at Thebes. 

After him Egyptian history continues through a long line of 
kings, among wliom are Shishak, whose cartouche I have spoken 
of at Karnak, and So, Psammatichus, and Neco, who are mentioned 
in the sacred writings. 

We now approach a period of more defmite dates. 

The Greeks, who had long been in the habit of trading with the 
Egyptians, had estabUshed colonies in the Delta, where Naucratis, 
their chief city, grew to be an important colony. 

Tliales of Miletus visited Egypt about b.c. 548, and Solon 
came to Naucratis with olive oil, to exchange it for Egyptian corn. 
Plato gives a full account of what the great lawgiver learned in 
the old country, whose priests professed to possess records of nine 
thousand years. Pythagoras, too, about this time resided in 
Egypt for twenty years, and until the Persian invasion. 

The reign of Amasis was to Egyptian history what the reign of 
the fourth George was to England, a period of high- art, pohshed 
literature, learning, luxury, and power — when all the world flocked 
to her temples and palaces to learn arts and arms, philosophy, the- 
ology, and all that appertains to life, earthly or eternal. 

It was about 529 b.c. that Cyrus died, and in the fourth year 
of his son Cambyses, the Persians invaded the Nile valley. 
Amasis was dead, his son succeeding him. Crossing the desert 
by way of Petra, Cambyses entered the Delta, and routed Psam- 
matichus, in a pitched battle, under the walls of Pelusium. Thence 
he followed up his victory to Memphis, and the throne fell into his 
power. He made the conquered monarch's daughter and the 
children of the nobility of Egypt carry Avatcr for him, and wear 
the dress of slaves, to show their complete sul)jugation, while he 
adjudged two thousand of the young men to death. 

This was the end of the glory of ancient Egypt. The Persians 
passed up the narrow valley of the Nile, sweeping away the 
splendid structures whose age even then was fabulous, and whose 
duration was intended to be eternal. Osymandyas fell from his 
throne before the invader, and his granite fragments were scattered 
on the sands of the Theban plain. Memnon, that had greeted the 



478 HISTORY. 

morning suns for a thousand years, was hurled to the ground. The 
obelisks of Karnak, that pointed their taper fingers heavenward, 
were scattered ; one only standing, calm and serene as the face 
of an old friend among the chaotic fragments of a delirious dream. 

The successor of Cambyses, Darius Hystaspes, permitted the 
Egyptians to be ruled by Egyptians, and Memnon was repaired, 
and the temples were then in some measure restored. But the 
age of giants was passed, and there were neither men nor souls to 
rebuild Karnak, or replace the granite statue of Sesostris at the 
Remeseion. It was during the Persian dynasty, about 460 b.c, 
that Herodotus visited Egypt, and wrote his curious notes on the 
history, manners, and customs, religion, and laws of the people, 
from which we derive much of our information about them. 

Alexander the Great conquered Egypt, and Ptolemy was made 
governor, b.c. 322, in the name of Philip and Alexander. 

The history of the division of the kingdoms among the follow- 
ers of Alexander on his death, is already too well known to need 
repetition. The Ptolemaic dynasty continued until the Eoman 
power in the East. During the period of this dynasty arts flour- 
ished, and many splendid temples were erected in the upper 
country, which are distinguished for their florid architecture and 
elaborate adornments. It is remarkable, that of the architectural 
antiquities of Egypt now remaining, nine tenths are Ptolemaic or 
of the days of Sesostris. 

Alexandria sprang mto power in those days. It had been an 
insignificant Egyptian city, but became for a time the capital of 
the East, and when Cleopatra won Antony to her arms it was the 
centre of all the luxurious refinements of the world. 

The scattered Jews had settled in large numbers in Egypt, and 
especially in and near Alexandria. It was here that the tradition 
of the church brings the Apostle Mark about the years a.d. 50-65. 
He remained in Alexandria twelve years, preaching boldly with 
great success, and founding a church, of which Annianus was the 
first bishop. Eusebius gives a complete list of his successors, and 
there is no reason to doubt the regularity of the succession from 
that time to tliis. 

The Christians of Egypt shared the variable joys and trials of 
Christians all over the world. They were persecuted with sword 



RELIC- ION. 479 

and flame, they were offered np as sacrifices to heathen gods, and 
burned for torches in the pubhc highways. Thousands of souls 
went to God in triumphal chariots from martyrdom on the Nile 
plain, and among the hosts in white that surround and sit on the 
thrones of heaven, there will be none Avith brighter crowns than 
some of those who came from this land of all manner of idolatries. 



II. 

RELIGION. 

The brief sketch of the ancient history of Egypt will suffice to 
convey some idea of the various influences which had importance 
from time to time in the formation of Egyptian mythology and 
theology. 

At what period of the world men began to worship false gods 
we can not at present know. The roar of the deluge had not 
ceased in the ears of the sons of Noah when they had forgotten 
the God of the storm. A few centuries had passed, and among 
the oak-trees of Mamre there was an altar to the living God, but 
no other smoke of sacrifice — so far as we now know — went up to 
him from aU the earth that he had created. 

The origin of idolatry was not every where the same. In As- 
syria it was doubtless in hero worship, and the canonizing of the 
great dead. But in Egypt tliis was not done. Herodotus is correct 
in liis statement that they gave no divine honor to heroes. No 
trace of such worship exists in their theology. 

Doubtless the rehgion of Egypt became idolatrous from an at- 
tempt to define the several attributes of the Deity. This is a very 
natural and easy method of falling into, precisely what the Egypt- 
ians did fall into, pantheism. For the rehgion of the Egyptians 
was pure pantheism until it became debased in the later cen- 
turies. 

They, Hke all children of Noah, worshiped the God of the 
deluge. But in process of time his character, which was originally 



480 RELIGION. 

understood as a Unity, became unintelligilDle to them. Then 
they deified his attributes. The Hving God, the eternal, unchange- 
able the Father of lights, the Creator, the Preserver, each was a 
different deity. 

But that they at first united all these in one God, and had some 
notion of them as being various manifestations of the same Deity, 
appears to me sufficiently evident. 

There was in all that they did an idea forever prominent of the 
one mighty Lord. To liim the converging hnes of the obehsk 
pointed. To him the open courts of all the temples permitted the 
voices of worshipers to ascend. To him they built their most 
magnificent temples, erected their most expensive shrines. Nor 
did the presence in the temples of other and lesser deities at any 
time fully remove the vague idea that they were in some sense 
emanations from the Supreme One. 

Such, then, was the origin of Pthah, Amun, Khem Maut, and 
other deities, representing the Creator, the Powerful, the Father, 
the Mother, and other great attributes of God. At what period 
in Egyptian history they were introduced to the Pantheon it is 
impossible to say, but it must have been in that indefinite period 
before the date of Osirtasen I,, since at the time of that monarch 
portions of the temple of Karnak were built and dedicated to these 
deities. 

But it is necessary to account for far more than this simple pan- 
theism if we would attempt to explain Egyptian theology. 

The most profound mystery in the subject hangs around the 
chief object of Egyptian fear and adoration, the God Osiris. 

But that his worship antedates even the days of Abraham, we 
should be disposed to beheve that there was some dim concep- 
tion of the theory of the Messiah, in his character, which is the 
grandest fact of the great system of Egyptian worship. 

He was a God who long before the days of Menes reigned in 
Egypt. He had come to the earth as the "teacher of good and of 
truth :" such is his title. He was put to death by his son Typhon, 
the Satan of Egyptian mythology, and then being dead was made 
the judge of all the dead, who in turn must appear before him. 

In regard to the time, the manner, and the causes of all this, 
doctors differed as theological doctors now differ. Some held to 



RELiaiON. 481 

his burial and resurrection, others that he was cut into pieces and 
the pieces scattered through Egypt, and that Isis went on a 
mournful search after them and gathered them together. All 
agreed that the island of Philae had a peculiar sanctity as his burial- 
place. To all he was the God of the judgment, and whatever par- 
ticular deity was specially honored in one or another city, Osiris 
was every where respected as the final judge. 

From worshiping the manifestations of the Deity in his great 
attributes, it was an easy transition to worshiping his great works, 
in which there seemed to be an active principle of hfe. The sun 
and moon were to all nations first in the catalogue, and the earth 
perhaps next. The sun was peculiarly near in its relations to 
divinity from its life-giving power. It seemed the source of ani- 
mal and vegetable life, and thus to be almost an essential part of 
the creating power of the Deity. Nature, acting with the influ- 
ence of the sun, brought forth plants and various forms of life. She 
was of course deified. 

Later in succession, a species of transcendentalism seems to have 
entered into the religious philosophy of Egypt, and it is not un- 
common to find on the monuments representations of kings, the 
external and visible man, offering votive presents to liis own inner 
3elf standing before him as a god. 

Few animals were actually deified. There has not been sufficient 
distinction made in this respect between deification and a making 
sacred, which perhaps might be called canonizing. 

The crocodile was a sacred animal. The origin of his canoniza- 
tion was probably in villages situated back from the Nile on broad 
parts of the valley, the fertility of whose lands depended on keep- 
ing open the canals of the Nile. Building a temple with a sacred 
pond and therein preserving, feeding, and taking care of these an- 
imals, the people were instructed that the fertility of their lands 
depended on attending to the wants of the crocodile, chief among 
which was the necessity of free access to the Nile. Therefore the 
people kept the canals open. A similar reason may be given for 
the respect paid to the Ibis, while the attention which was given 
to cats and other animals, hving or dead, originated in the idea that 
each of these animals was in some respect typical of the attribute 
worshiped as one or another deity. 

21 



482 HISTOKY. 

It is my object in this brief article only to sketch the rise and 
progress of Egyptian theology in its earlier existence. It afterward 
became a hideous mass of idolatry, without form or order — a mad- 
ness without method. 

Temples to gods were erected at a very early period. The older 
parts of Karnak antedate the arrival of Abraham in Egypt. One 
almost invariable plan was adopted in building these temples dur- 
ing two thousand years. Two great towers stood on the sides of 
the grand gateway which opened into a court, surrounded by a 
colonnade, and tliis opened into a chamber which was the holy 
of hohes. More or less chambers surrounded this, for priestly uses. 
Images of gods and goddesses were common. At Abou Simbal, 
and at Gerf Hossayn, the stone gods sit even to this day behind 
their altars, waiting the return of worshipers. 

That the Egyptians believed in the immortality of soul and body, 
there can be no doubt. This led to the custom of mummying the 
dead, and I presume that this led to the excavation of costly sep- 
ulchres. It appears evident that they expected to return to their 
original bodies at some future time, and desired to find them not 
only perfect, but in such habitations as they might not be ashamed 
of I believe I have already remarked, that it seems to me prob- 
able that they built their temples with reference to this return, as 
if they intended them to outlast the changes of time, and be ready 
to receive them in the second life. That they expected to resume 
these bodies, and inhabit the Nile valley, can not, I think, be ques- 
tioned. 

The state of the dead between this life and their return, was a 
subject of constant thought and study among Egyptian philosophers 
and priests. The tombs abound in representations of that state. 
The dead were always led to Osiris for judgment, and by him con- 
signed to one or another fate as their balance of evil against good 
was smaller or greater. For I am not aware than any tomb has 
been found among the hundreds containing this judgment scene 
where the evil did not outweigh the good. If they did not beheve 
in original sin, they undoubtedly beheved in the total depravity of 
the human race, and while the doctrine of an atonement was un- 
known to them, they taught and believed that sin must have its 
punishment after death, whether the sinner were king or clown. 



WRITTEN LANGUAGE. 483 

III. 

WRITTEN LANGUAGE. 

Whether Moses, educated in the house of Pharaoh, wrote the 
books of the Pentateuch in Egyptian characters, or whether he had 
learned another and more simple alphabet, or had invented one 
for himself, is a question that will forever remain unsettled. 

Although very great advances have been made within the pres- 
ent century in deciphering the hieroglyphics of Egypt, we are 
still very much in the dark when attempting to read monumental 
inscriptions or records on papyrus. Enough is knovm to establish » 
the general character of the alphabet, but not enough to follow 
the various signs through their different names and sounds which 
they probably possessed in different locations and connections. 

The history of the discovery of the method of reading the 
hieroglyphic writings of Egypt is among the most important parts 
of the history of this century. It is a striking feature of the age 
in which we live, that the monuments which have lain for nearly 
two thousand years, showing their broad legends to the sun and 
the eyes of the learned and curious, are now for the first time 
legible and intelligible to men. 

In this brief paper I can do no more than outline this history, 
but I am not without confidence that even a cursory statement 
may prove interesting. 

He who has read this, or any other volume on Egypt, is of 
course well aware that the sacred sculptures (Hiero-glyphs) are 
found on almost every ruin of old times in the valley of the Nile. 
Temples are covered without and within with these figures and 
forms. Columns, from pedestal to capital, are blazoned with them. 
Even in the streets of Cairo your donkey treads on carved stones, 
bearing the names of old kings. Walls of tombs are minutely 
adorned with stories of the dead, and prophecies of their future 
fate. Tablets here and there in palace temples record lives of 
kings and queens. All these are in the hieroglyphic character. 

Besides these we have articles discovered in tombs, household 
utensils, furniture and toys, which are marked with these or an- 



484 WRITTEN LANGUAGE. 

other style of character. And we have also immense quantities 
of papyrus, found chiefly in tombs, which contain histories, poems, 
essays, and other writings, in the Hieroglyphic and two other 
styles of character, which we call the Hieratic, or priestly, and the 
Demotic, or popular. The Hieratic bore to the hieroglyphic much 
the same relation that our written characters in common hand- 
writing bear to an elegant printed page. It was the same charac- 
ter, but shaped for common, rapid, epistolary use. 

The Demotic, or people's style, was probably a corruption of the 
hieratic. It is found on papyrus as well as on household articles. 

Illustrations of these three styles of writing will better enable 
£he reader to appreciate their distinction than any amount of de- 
scription. 

Hieroglyphic. 



^^9f ^^%:5T 4)t^ «. /^fei 



Mi: 



Hieratic. 



Pc\(^ ZiA,9ii^'i% 



Demotic. 

In one or the other of these characters the learning of Egypt 
was preserved from generation to generation, and age to age. Im- 
mense treasures of that learning have been forever lost. 

The literature of Egypt was doubtless very extensive, vastly 
more so than we are accustomed to beheve. In the great Alex- 
andrian library, there must have been many thousand volumes of 
Egyptian history, law, metaphysics, theology, and general liter- 
ature. 

The forty-two books of Hermes, known to the Greeks, were 
liierographic. We are fortunate in possessing considerable por- 
tions of them in the papyri most commonly found in the tombs, 
and especially in the papyrus of the Turin Museum, which con- 



WRITTEN LANGUAGE. 485 

tains one hundred and sixty-five chapters. This, usually called 
'*The Eitual of the Dead," is often found in whole or in part as 
the companion of a mummy. In later days the form was much 
shortened. It consists of prayers to be recited by priests at the 
funeral services, formulae which the deceased must be acquainted 
with, for his guidance in the unseen world — prayers to the gods 
for the dead — services and orders, by means of which the deceased 
will oppose evil spirits and fiends of all kinds — will recover his 
head, his heart, and his body — will pass through the mystical re- 
gions of hereafter — and, in general, instructions of the dead for their 
guidance in the future world. 

Besides these, however, the books of Hermes consisted of works 
on astronomy, music, law, theology, and medicine. 

We learn from ancient writers that there were also works of 
King Cheops, builder of the first pyramid, on theology ; of Menes, 
who was a physician, and of Necho, an astrologer, as well as 
numerous books of priests and learned men. 

Diodorus and Herodotus allude to works on law, medicine, and 
astronomy. The laws of the country were known in eight vol- 
umes. 

AVe have abundant evidence that hieroglyphic writing was used 
for ordinary literary purposes. Even songs were written in it. 
An example, familiar to Egyptian scholars, is taken from a tomb at 
Eileithyas, where it appears written over oxen treading out grain. 
( Vide posi^ page 490.) 

The language of ancient Egypt was a derivative from the old 
stock, branching at Babel. This was preserved with much purity 
in the priestly writings and legends, but corrupted by the people 
in its common use, receiving words and ideas from every nation 
conquered by, or conquering the Egyptian, even to Greek and Ro- 
man times. The Coptic of the centuries after Christ bore a very 
distant resemblance to its original Semitic root, and was finally 
lost, except only in the formulas and services of the Coptic church, 
where it is still used, neither clerk or priest pretending in four cases 
out of five to understand a word that he reads. I questioned them 
in many Coptic churches, and found their ignorance of the language 
frequently and usually total. 

The problem, therefore, to be solved, was this : Given an un- 



486 



WRITTEN LANGUAGE. 



known language, written in an unknown character; required to 
translate it into English. 

It would be impossible in these pages to recount one in ten of 
the attempts which have from time to time been made to solve 
tliis problem. 

As early as 1529, Valeriani pubUshed a folio attempt.* Kircher, 
in 1653, fathered most amusing and extravagant notions in a larger 
publication,! and was followed by a host of authors in octavo and 
folio for more than a century, no one of all whom made the slight- 
est progress in the work. The waste of time, paper, and press- 
work on these essays, was enormous. Perhaps no subject has 
exhausted so many brains to so httle effect. Zoega,J in 1797, sug- 
gested the first valuable idea on the subject, to wit, that the hiero- 
glyphical figures which we commonly call a cartouche, contained the 
name of a royal personage, and that the ordinary characters might 

be alphabetical. This 
suggestion was never 
acted on, however, until 
the days of Dr. Young 
and Champollion. 

In 1799, a stone was 
discovered in the Delta, 
near Rosetta, of the 
shape of which the 
drawing will give an 
accurate idea. It bore 
an inscription of great 
length, in three charac- 
ters. The first was the 
Plieroglyphic ; the sec- 
ond, the Demotic or 
popular ; and the third, 
Greek. This is the 
famous Rosetta stone 
which proved the key 
to the hidden Egyptian 
characters. 

* Hieroglyphica. Lugdun. Batav. 1529. t CEdipus .^Egyptiacus. Romae ; 1652-4. 
:}: Dft origine obeliscoruni, Rorase; 1797. 




ROSETTA STONE. 



WRITTEN LANGUAGE. 



487 



In 1818, Dr. Young published an article on the subject, and actu- 
ally gave the names of some royal persons from the monuments, 
with the phonetic value of certain of the letters composing them. 
He did, in fact, discover the value of five characters, but he went 
no further. Champolhon le Jeune had published his Egypt under 
the Pharaohs, in 1814.* He was an ardent young Frenchman, 
and devoted himself with skill and spirit to the solution of the 
problem. , 

Mr. Banks had discovered at Philse a Greek inscription on the 
base of a small obelisk, which he and others had believed to be 
the translation of the hieroglyphic inscription above it. The latter 
contained a cartouche answering to the name of Cleopatra in the 
group. 

Champollion took this cartouche and compared it with one on the 
Rosetta stone, which occurred as often as the name HTOAEMAIOS 
(PTOLEMAIOS) occurred in the Greek, and which Dr. Young 
had identified as that name. 

The reasoning of Champollion was very simple. His theory was 
that each hieroglyphic was a letter possessed of phonetic value. 

If true, then the first letter, K, in Kleopatra, would not be found 
in Ptolemaios. It was not. The second letter, L, should be fourth in 
Ptolemaios. He found it so. The third 
letter, E, should be fifth in Ptolemaios, 
and was there, as also the seventh and 
eighth. The fourth letter, 0, should 
be third in Ptolemaios. It was there. 
The P was in its proper place in 
both names. The A of Cleopatra was 
not in Ptolemaios, but occurred twice 
in the cartouche of Cleopatra. The T 
was not alike in the two names. It 
was the first failure of the theory. The R was not in Ptolemaios. 
It was soon evident to Champolhon that the difficulty in the T 
originated in the use of different signs to express the same sound, 
and this was another great step in learning the lesson he had be- 
fore him. 

It is hardly necessary to explain how rapidly after this Cham- 

* L'Egypte sous les Pharaons. Paris, 1S1.4. 




488 WRITTEN LANGUAGE. 

pollion advanced his system. Taking up a cartouche which con- 
tained the A and L, and R, which he already possessed, he said, 
this is Alexander, and by comparison with others, verified his sup- 
position. Every oval or cartouche thus furnished new letters to 
liis alphabet, and at length he was able to read sentences outside 
of the royal ovals. 

The rapidity with which Champollion pressed to a result is as- 
tonishing. In a brief space of time he published a grammar and 
dictionary of hieroglyphics, of great extent, in which later inves- 
tigators have been able to detect so few errors, that there is no 
other assistant in Egyptian studies yet competent to supply their 
places. 

The result arrived at was this. The hieroglyphic writing of 
Egypt is in substance alphabetical. The alphabet consists of a very 
large number of characters, the total being even yet unknown. 
Each picture has the phonetic value of the first sound uttered in 
pronouncing its name. Thus a reed, Akke^ would be pronounced A 
(the two reeds represent the diphthong aio, or ai, in Ptolemaios, of 
which the sound may be not unlike a double aa), a lion, Idbu^ would 
be L, a hand, Tut, would be T ; or to take an EngHsh illustration, 
a picture of a lion would be L, of a hand H, of a reed R. 

I can not leave Champollion's name without recalling to the 
reader's mind that remarkable occurrence in his visit to Egypt, 
which I have before described,* which at once stamped the truth 
of liis system and dedicated it to the uses of Christian theology. 

On his arrival at Karnak his eye was attracted by that remark- 
able group of captives before the monarch Shishak, and ran over 




MEL K Kah 

the hieroglyphs with astonishing result. In one of the compart- 
ments he found these characters, and read them aloud to his sur- 

* Page 892. 



WRITTEN LANGUAGE. 480 

prised attendants and the savans who had been at work on them 
before his arrival, Judah Melk, the King of the Jews. 

This example may suffice by way of illustrating some further 
explanatory remarks. 

The last character is indicated as Kah. The word is translated 
country. The figure itself represents rolHng land. Its value is not 
phonetic. 

This is one of a class of characters forming an important feature 
in the hieroglyphic system, commonly called determinatives. In this 
instance it indicates that the previous words refer to a country. 

A name with a picture of a god after it, would be understood 
as the name of a god. If a man follows it, it would be the name 
of a man. In this instance there are two determinatives. The 
entire name (see cut on page 386) is enclosed in a figure repre- 
senting a fortified place, and the translation of the whole idea is, 
" The fortified country of the King of the Jews." 

Another class of determinatives was soon discovered, consisting 
of pictures introduced to explain the precise sound of a syllable or 
value of a letter — as if in English after the letter A in the word 
STAND, a picture of a man were placed to indicate that the letter 
was to be pronounced as in pronouncing man. 

Abbreviations were found to be common. The head of an 
animal was enough for the idea of the whole animal ; a dot, with 
a ring round it, was the representation of an eye. 

It must not be supposed that the hieroglyphs were always pho- 
netic. On the contrary they were sometimes symbohcal, even 
when occurring in alphabetical sentences ; and oftentimes whole 
inscriptions, and extended legends were in symboHc characters. 
Thus certain characters acquired symbohcal value. A jackal was 
the emblem of knowledge — a flail, of power — a feather, of truth ; 
and these and other characters which possessed phonetic value 
also would be selected in writing names and words, on account of 
their symbolic value agreeing with the idea of the word written. 
The fact that the same hieroglyph possesses at one time phonetic 
and at another time symbohc value, is, as must Be evident to the 
reader, one of the great difficulties in the way of reading the Egyp- 
tian records, especially as this double use may occur in the same 
sentence or inscription. 

21* 



490 



WRITTEN LANGUAGE. 







^"^ L^ JsJo 

'^'^'^^^ ^^^!U^ IT ^ 5 

• « ■ 1 I « iV A 



/vwvwv\ 







yVWVVW 
I I I 



AWWWV 




I I I 



I I I 



Before concluding these 
remarks, I venture to give 
the illustration which I have 
before alluded to, of a song 
found in one of the tombs 
at El Kab, or Eileithyas, by 
way of showing briefly a 
few of the characteristics of 
hieroglyphic writing. The 
ordinary rule is, that the 
lines are to be read from the 
direction toward which the 
animals are looking. This 
song will therefore be read 
from right to left. 

The first line, Mr. Birch 
writes. 



hi ten en ten 

The character at the end of this line is a direction, twice or 
repeat The same direction occurs at the end of the third line. 
The song is thus translated : 

*' Thrash ye for yourselves, 
Thrash ye for yourselves, 
Thrash ye for yourselves, oxen ; 
Thrash ye for yourselves, 
Thrash ye for yourselves. 
Measures of grain for yourselves, 
Measures of grain for your masters.'' 

A comparison of the EngUsh with the original will afford an 
interesting occupation for the reader who may have leisure for it. 
Such obvious characteristics as the symbohc representation of the 
words thrash, oxen, measures of grain, the plural being indicated 
by the three marks under them, I need only mention to show the 
thoughtful reader the prominent characteristics of this ancient 
style of writing. 

This song is among the oldest pieces of written poetry extant. 



WRITTEN LANGUAGE. 491 

Scarcely so old as the words of Lamecli, but perhaps quite as 
ancient as the triumph of Miriam. 

Thus much must suffice, in this brief paper, on a subject which 
volumes would be required to make a complete history of. The 
reader will find ample assistance in the English and French publi- 
cations, should he desire to pursue the subject further than this 
outline may instruct him. At the present time, learned men in 
almost every nation except our own, are devoting their labor to 
the development of the system. Some, indeed, remain unconvinced 
of its value, but nearly all scholars have yielded to the clearness and 
conclusive force of the reasoning, as well as the results, of the 
Champollion system. Dr. Seyfarth, in Germany, holds to one of 
the old theories, and has published elaborate and voluminous works 
since 1844 in its support. This theory requires all the pages of 
Dr. Seyfarth's works to explain, and then in a most unintelhgible 
manner. He supposes the hieroglyphics to have certain relations to 
astrology, and to possess variable value according to the zodiacal 
position they may occupy, or in which they have been used. His 
system has one advantage, that it enables him to translate any 
passage or inscription to which his attention is directed, it being 
competent to suppose the hieroglyphics were used in any astrolog- 
ical connection necessary to give the translation desired, and no 
one can establish the falsehood of the version so produced. 

The steadfast progress of the method of ChampolUon has suffi- 
ciently settled its truth and value. 

The system is far from complete, and as yet the results have been 
meagre in historic value, as compared with the reasonable expec- 
tations of its discoverer and his followers. This arises from the 
peculiar character of the Egyptian sculptures. The monuments 
abound in addresses to the gods, repetitions of prayers and sacred 
formulas, but historical sculpture, or papyri, are rare indeed. The 
habits, manners, and customs, and rehgion of the ancient Egypt- 
ians, are before us in a thousand pictures and in these sculptures. 
But the succession of kings, and the relation of events in Egypt to 
events in other parts of the world, can be but roughly guessed at 
from such tablets as those at Philae, Abydos, El Kab, and else- 
where, on which occur names and successions of royal personages, 
but no dates, periods of reign, life, or cotemporary history, 



492 WRITTEN LANGUAGE. 

When, as in the case of the subjugation of Kehoboam by Shi- 
shak, we find allusions to cotemporary history, we have starting- 
points fixed, but intermediate monarchs, their succession and the 
length of their several reigns, can not be accurately and conclusively 
determined, until we find some more complete historical papyrus 
or tablet than is as yet known. 

If there were extant a history of Egypt in hieroglyphics, our 
present knowledge is ample to translate it with correctness. Hence 
the importance of additional searches in Egypt, and government 
excavations. Each new sculpture, or papyrus, discovered, may be 
the most valuable yet known. 

I can not forego the hope that our own government may in time 
lend its aid to these investigations, in which there is a field for 
American talent and enterprise, discoveries in which will add to 
the glory of the country, while they may tend to the confirmation 
of the Christian religion, and will increase the great sum of human 
knowledge. 



B. 

TO TRAVELERS VISITING EGYPT. 

For lovers of all that is luxurious in travel, of all that is glorious 
in memory, of the grand, the beautiful, the picturesque, and the 
strange, Egyptian travel is the perfection of life. For invalids it 
surpasses any country in the world, and the voyage on the Nile is 
perfect dolce far nienie. I do most seriously recommend a winter 
in Egjrpt to invahds, especially to such as have pulmonary affec- 
tions. The cHmate is even, cahn, and delicious. In the shade it is 
not hot, and the evenings and nights are profoundly still, clear, and 
beautiful. Day and night the atmosphere is the same. There are 
no changes from heat to cold, or the reverse. There is no labor in 
visiting ruins. All of Egypt is on the Nile. Your boat is a home 
that becomes, hke your own in America, inexpressibly dear to you, 
and it floats along from temple to palace, from pyramid to tomb, 
from old glory to old glory. The day, the week, the voyage, is one 
long dream of deUght, and the memory of it an inheritance of 
pleasure. Medical attendance in Cairo, of the highest order, is 
always to be obtained, and advice for the voyage, should the invalid 
be in condition to need it. 

As for the comfort of the voyage, I have only to repeat that 
there is no hotel in Europe, from Morley's or the Hotel du Louvre 
down to the vile inn at Capua, in which the traveler will live so 
well in all respects as on his Nile boat. The larder is always full 
of game, and the shore abounds in chickens, eggs, turkeys, and 
mutton. 

The insects, of which so much has been said in oriental travel, 
are but a small annoyance. For every one that I found in Egypt 
there are ten in Home. Italy is in this respect much worse than 



494 TO TRAVELERS VISITING EGYPT. 

Egypt. Fleas abound, but a Cairene invention of flea-powder is a 
perfect safeguard against them. Lice are sometimes found by the 
traveler on his person, after being carried on the shoulders of a 
native. "We had no mosquitoes above Cairo. No vermin need be 
found on the boat if the traveler take proper care of its cleanhness 
before hiring it. 

I know by experience the necessity of the few pages wliich I 
here add by way of advice to my roving countrymen. 

Americans leaving home to go to Egypt need make no prepara- 
tions in this country. The direct route is from New York or 
Boston to Liverpool or Havre, thence to Marseilles, and from 
Marseilles by steamer to Alexandria. 

The Peninsular and Oriental Company's steamers from South- 
ampton touching at Gibraltar would, under ordinary circumstances, 
offer the most pleasant conveyance, but they are invariably taken 
up by the India passengers. Gentlemen travehng alone will do 
well enough on them, but ladies going only to Egypt will fail to 
find cabin room. 

The French steamers leave Marseilles every two weeks, touch- 
ing at Malta, where they lie over night. They are miserable, 
second-class vessels, as are nearly all the French Messagerie Im- 
periale steamers on the Mediterranean. 

Were I going again at this time, I should without hesitation go 
from Paris to Vienna and Trieste, taking thence the Austrian 
Lloyd's steamer to Alexandria, which is a better steamer than the 
French, and better manned. The Mediterranean trip is much 
shorter by this route, an important consideration on a sea so noto- 
riously disagreeable. Tliis route, however, has this disadvantage, 
that it affords no such opportunity for making purchases on the 
route, preparatory to a winter on the Nile, as the voyager will 
find at Malta. 

Ladies of the most delicate constitutions need have no apprehen- 
sions in passing a winter in Egypt. The cUmate is delicious, the 
Nile boat is as comfortable as a hotel, and every luxury is provided 
by a careful dragoman that the most fastidious could desire. There 
is no such thing as " roughing it" in Egypt. 

The purchases of which I have spoken are not many, but a few 
are important. 



TO TRAVELERS VISITING EGYPT. 495 

A first-rate fowling-piece is indispensable to a gentleman on the 
Nile. Water fowl of all kinds abound, and the shores are lined 
with flocks of pigeons, a variety precisely like our common blue 
baru pigeon. 

Arms are useful only for show in Egypt. It is well to have a 
good pistol, and in Syria it is necessary. I found the volcanic pis- 
tol^ as it is called, much preferable to Colt's. The latter was 
constantly getting out of order, and from the falling of the cap 
between the cylinder and the hammer, was useless twice out of 
three times after the first shot. I carried the fixed ammunition 
of the volcanic pistol with me in all cHmates, and found it infalli- 
ble. It is compact and safe. I recommend it to the eastern 
traveler. 

Take plenty of gunpowder and shot from Malta. They are 
very scarce and very expensive in Egypt. 

A first rate opera-glass is preferable to a telescope for Nile uses. 
Purchase this in Paris, or better still, if you pass through Ger- 
many, in Munich, Avhere very small glasses of great power can be 
procured. 

What wines you wish, buy in France or in Malta. If you go 
from Marseilles by French steamer, purchase your supply there, 
for your entire eastern tour. You will have no trouble in the 
Alexandrian custom-house. 

Buy no Spanish wines in Marseilles ; leave them till you reach 
Malta. Drive directly to Woodhouse's on your arrival in Malta, 
and let him send on board your steamer what supply of Marsala 
wine you wish. This is probably the best wine you can take to 
Egypt. It is as a matter of health, preferable to claret, and the 
latter will not stand a winter on the Nile. I found a quarter cask 
of Marsala more than sufficient for our party of four, seeing, as we 
did, much company. 

Books are an essential to the pleasure of the voyage. Wilkin- 
son's works, and Murray's edition of Wilkinson (Murray's Guide- 
Book for Egypt), Lane's Modern Egyptians, and any books of 
travel by way of hand-book will be sufficient for the ordinary 
pleasure traveler. Others will increase this stock, and general 
reading books are not out of the way on a Nile boat. 

Make no arrangements with a dragoman in Malta. Under no 



496 TO TRAVELERS VISITING EGYPT. 

circumstances be induced to take one till you reach Cairo. En- 
glish is spoken by every one at Alexandria with whom you Avill 
be hkely to meet. 

On arriving at Alexandria, go on shore without a commission- 
aire or guide. You will find donkeys, and donkey-boys who 
speak English. Probably the regular commissionaire from one of 
the hotels will be on board. If so, let him take care of you and 
your luggage. If not, leave your luggage on board, and send 
from the hotel for it. 

At Alexandria, go to the Hotel d'Europe or the Peninsular and 
Oriental, on the grand square. The Victoria, not on the square, is 
kept by an Enghshman, and I believe is comfortable. 

Employ a dragoman as a guide for the few days you remain in 
Alexandria, but no longer. The regular price all the world over 
is five francs a day. You go to Cairo by rail. 

At Cairo, go to Williams's India Family Hotel. It is more 
home-like than the others, which are large barns. I have heard 
that Shepherd has sold out. If so, the hotel that was his may be 
tolerable, wliich it was not last winter. 

In selecting a boat for the Nile voyage, leave notliing to your 
dragoman, but go and examine every boat yourself. Insist on it 
being newly painted and varnished. Be particular about the var- 
nish, for the paint never dries without it. 

There are two sizes of boats. There are a dozen for that mat- 
ter, but the traveler need only inquire for this distinction, whether 
the boat is too large to ascend the first cataract. If liis voyage is 
only to the first cataract he may take a large boat; if beyond, it 
must be somewhat smaller. 

All the provisions and furniture for the voyage may be obtained 
at Cairo. If the traveler make such a contract as I made, he 
need give himself no concern about this whatever. If he prefer 
to pay a dragoman by the day, he must hunt up his own food and 
fixtures in the shops, as well as along the river. 

In selecting a dragoman it is impossible to advise. The best of 
the class are great scamps. I have no doubt that Mohammed Abd- 
el-Atti is one of the best dragomans in Egypt. I saw no one that 
I considered liis equal in intelligence and ability. He proved a 
faithful servant to me during more than seven months of life among 



TO TRAVELERS VISITING EGYPT. 497 

the Arabs, from Abou Seir to Damascus, and I learned his faults as 
well as his virtues. He has a furious temper and an ardent love 
of money. These are his sins. Let who can find one of his class 
without them. Treat him as a gentleman should treat an educated 
and respectable interpreter and courier, and he will serve you most 
faithfully. 

My contract was made for a longer period than most persons 
will wish to pass on the Nile, and the rate payable per diem, after 
the exhaustion of the pay days allowed by the contract, was three 
pounds, which for four persons was about three and three quarter 
dollars each per day. I paid much more than was necessary, and 
if going up the Nile again, should have no difficulty in making the 
trip in the same style for four dollars per day for each person, and 
three dollars for extra days of stoppage. 

The expense of a winter in Egypt is less than in almost any 
other part of the East. A reference to the contract which I give 
in full on page 122, will show precisely the expense which a party 
of four persons are at for the most comfortable and luxurious ar- 
rangements that are ever made on the Nile. Gentlemen traveling 
without ladies, should under no circumstances pay more than four 
dollars per day for the Nile voyage, unless they travel singly, which 
they will find too lonesome by far. Any one paying over a pound 
a day alone, or four dollars if with another person, may regard 
himself as cheated. 

If you desire to become acquainted with the people, and their 
manners and customs, select an Egyptian dragoman. 

If you take a Maltese, look up Francis Abrams, an honest fellow 
for a Maltese, who served me faithfully for some weeks. 

You will need in Egypt ordinary clothing, such as would ho 
worn in New York in May or the latter part of September, Avith 
overcoats for cold changes. No special provision in this respect 
need be made. 

Medical advice is not wanting in Cairo, where Dr. Abbott 
will be found, a skillful and learned physician, long resident, famil- 
iar with all the necessities of the climate, and himself an agreeable 
and delightful companion. His name is already well known in 
America. 

With these few hints in his mind, the traveler who desires to 



498 TO TRAVELERS VISITING EGYPT. 

go to Egypt for the winter, may pack up his baggage and go, heed- 
less of the thousand doubts and apprehensions which a journey to 
a remote and almost barbarian country almost necessarily suggests. 
AVith this advice before him, he may go to Egypt as confidently 
as to England or France. 



THE END. 



By William C. Prime. 



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OF THE ACADEMIE FRANCAISE, AUTHOR OF " DEMOCRACY IN AMERICA." 
TRANSLATED BY 



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A HISTORY OF GREECE, 

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Endeavor to become acquainted with Mr. Grote, who is engaged on a Greek 
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to Professor Liebeu. 

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Mr. Grote is, beyond all (piestion, the historian of Greece, unrivaled, so far as 
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